


A Reluctant Call to Arms

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 58,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where sentinels and guides are known, Captain Jim Ellison is Primary Operative in a specialist Sentinel and Guide Unit, but he needs a very special guide in order to continue to function satisfactorily.<br/>Dr Blair Sandburg is such a guide, but he believes he is safe from coercion by the military.<br/>He is wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reluctant Call to Arms

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my first attempt at posting a story to AO3, so apologies for any errors or omissions. For anyone interested, it can also be found at Artefact Storage Room 3 where all my other TS fics are stored at http://asr3.slashzone.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1436  
> Thank you.

**A Reluctant Call to Arms – April 2014                      by Katef**

**Part 1: Blair:**

**Sometime in the near future:**

Dr B J Sandburg sat on the edge of the hard, narrow cot, his tightly clenched hands thrust between his knees as he fought to stave off the mother of all panic attacks. Breathing as deeply as he could, he desperately tried to remember each and every calming mantra he had ever heard, knowing that he was undoubtedly being watched. Probably audiobugged too, and he so didn’t want them to realise how frightened he actually was. Strike that. Terrified nearly out of his mind was closer to the truth.

Through sheer force of will, he managed to pull himself together somewhat, although he was pretty certain that the real deal wouldn’t be held off for much longer unless someone somewhere decided to either let him out of here, or at least explain why he was being held like this. Because for sure, it wasn’t for any good reason.

Sighing deeply, he scratched distractedly at an itch at the back of his neck. The collar of the one-piece coverall he had been given to replace his own clothes was stiff and rough on his skin; certainly not intended for comfort, but at least he wasn’t naked, so that was a bonus. Raising his head, he looked around him again, although nothing had changed miraculously while he was fighting off his incipient melt-down. The windowless cell, approximately ten feet by twelve and unfurnished except for the cot on which he was sitting and an unscreened, lidless toilet bowl in the corner, was painted a uniform grey. The solid metal door had a peep hole with a sliding cover, like many standard prison cells, and a tiny flashing red light deeply set in a niche in one corner undoubtedly monitored his every move. Much as he’d have loved to smash the damned thing, it was too high up for him to reach unless he could have moved the cot which was firmly attached to the wall. The ceiling was so high that a person of his rather lowly stature would need something to stand on, and even then, the camera was protected by solid-looking mesh.

Suddenly infused once again by fear and adrenaline-fuelled energy, he leapt to his feet, and paced around in tiny circles, trying to take the edge off his frustration. As he muttered curses and imprecations in every exotic language he knew, expressive hands gesturing and waving in counterpoint to his words, he was struck anew by the hopelessness of the situation, and collapsed back onto the cot with a thud as his legs gave out from under him. Sliding back into the corner of the cot, back pressed defensively against the angle of the walls, he pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms tightly around his shins, forehead resting against his knees as he fought the urge to cry.

_‘Why me? Why now? After all this time, and everything I’ve said and done...?’_

**48 hours previously: Dr Sandburg’s office, Hargrove Hall, Rainier University, Cascade, WA:**

Blair sat back in his chair, and raised one leg to rest his ankle on his other knee, contemplating the earnest, attractive young woman sitting across from him. Deborah Walsh was undoubtedly one of the brightest and best of his grad students, a lovely and talented girl he had entertained great hopes of mentoring through her PhD and beyond, and he was deeply perplexed at what she had just told him.

“OK, Debs. Let me get this straight. You want to join the Army, to enlist as a military Guide rather than commence your doctoral programme? I have to say, I don’t understand. You’ve just got your Masters, and you’ve already chosen your thesis subject. You know what I think about your work, and it’s not stretching the imagination for me to have had thoughts about you joining me here on faculty in due course. You have great talent, Debs, and the Anthro department always needs new blood, especially someone specialising in Sentinel Studies. This radical change of direction has thrown me for a loop, I can tell you! What happened to my pacifist student?”

“I’m sorry, Blair. I knew you’d be disappointed in me. I didn’t want to let you down after all the help and guidance you’ve given me over the years, but it’s something I feel compelled to do. I’m sorry...” and she looked down at her feet for a moment, unable to face her teacher and friend.

“Oh no, don’t apologise!” Blair responded immediately, mortified that he’d upset her, albeit unwittingly.  Leaning forward, he took her hand in both of his, real concern written all over his mobile features.

“I’m sorry, Debs. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. It’s your decision, after all, and I have no right to try and dissuade you just because I don’t want you to go. I just want to be convinced that you’re making the right choice for you. It’s not like the bad old days, after all, when you wouldn’t have _had_ a choice!”

Looking up to meet his eyes again, Debs offered a slightly watery smile before answering. She was undeniably fond of her handsome young professor, and until recently would have happily followed him into academia, but Marcus had changed all that. And, much as it pained her to hurt her friend, she knew she was doing the right thing.

“Oh, Blair. I know. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me, and I’ll always be grateful for all your help – and your friendship while I’ve studied here. And I know things have changed for the better over the years. It’s not like the end of the last century when sentinels and guides were conscripted into the military – or guilted into joining up. And forced bonding ended decades ago.

“And now we’re well into the twenty-first century, thanks to the foresight of academics like your old mentor Dr Stoddard, and the work continued by people like you, I can’t see us ever returning to the bad old days. Sentinels and guides can choose their own paths now, and it’s not often you meet individuals who criticise us when we tell them we choose not to bond at all.

“I promise you that my decision wasn’t made on those grounds. Like you, I wasn’t going to be dictated to by small-minded prejudice. But then I met Marcus. And everything changed,” and she gazed into Blair’s sympathetic eyes, pleading for his understanding. When he offered her a gentle smile and a tiny nod indicating that he wanted her to continue, she did so, relieved and grateful that her favourite teacher wasn’t about to bawl her out after all.

“I honestly had no intention of tying myself to anyone for years yet, if at all. I always fancied I could be like you – earn a place in the department, and perhaps even gain a little of the success and good reputation you’ve achieved here. But when Marcus asked me to bond with him and be his guide, it just felt so right. I didn’t care that he’s a captain in the marines. He’s a good man, and I love him. Enough to give up my life here to join him in the military.

“We’re already bonded, Blair. It’s a done deal. Please be happy for me?” and she blushed deeply, suddenly shy in the face of his open astonishment.

“Well, you’ve certainly taken the wind out of my sails, babe!” breathed Blair, shock warring with reluctant understanding on his face.

“As one guide to another, I should have been able to tell you’d already committed yourself,” he added with a wry grin. “Actually, I think I already realised it. You have a glow about you, for sure, Debs. And who am I to say that you’re wrong? It’s just me being selfish, losing the best student helper I ever had. Just because I have no intention of bonding, doesn’t mean to say I should be preaching to you. It’s just a shock, is all.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world, Debs. You and Marcus. And I’ll tell him so if I get to see him before you both leave.

“But I’ll be staying here, kiddo. I think I’m doing my part educating people in Sentinel and Guide lore, and I need my independence to enable me to continue to do that.”

“Thank you, Blair, for not being mad with me. And I’m glad that good people like you exist to carry on enlightening society about cultures and ethnicity as well as the gift of sentinels and guides. Humanity has always had a tendency towards prejudice and mistreatment of what it can’t understand, even in this so-called modern age. You’re my hero, Blair, just as Marcus is in his chosen role. I wish I could work with you both, but it’s impossible.

“But you never know,” she added, with a wistful smile. “Maybe when Marcus’ term is up, provided he doesn’t want to re-enlist, perhaps I can return to academia then, and continue where I left off?”

“Well, if you do, Debs, and I’m still around, I promise you I’ll help you in every way I can. Meanwhile, give me a hug, and take care of yourself, you hear? And tell Marcus he’s a very lucky guy!”

Standing up, she went willingly into his arms to enjoy a warm and loving hug, and then pulled away to retrieve her book bag.

“Thanks, Blair. For everything. Take care, and see you again before we leave,” and smiling a little sadly, she closed the door quietly behind her, leaving a somewhat shell-shocked and bemused young professor staring after her.

\-------------------------------

A couple of hours later, Blair decided he was too distracted to even pretend to proof the rough draft of the paper he was working on. Since he had no more lectures that day, and his office hours were officially over, he decided to cut out early, and perhaps go somewhere peaceful like Cascade’s Botanical Gardens. He had plenty to process, and he needed somewhere quiet and relatively isolated in which to do it. Stuffing his paper and a pile of blue books that needed marking into his old rucksack, he exited his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Summoning up a convincing grin and cheery goodbye for Janice, his favourite department secretary who was holding court in solitary splendour in the adjoining office, he strode off down the corridor, eager to make his escape.

Crossing the parking lot, he made his way to the distant space where he had parked his elderly Prius, still deep in thought and mulling over his student’s unexpected bombshell and its likely repercussions. Totally introspective, he completed the trip on virtual autopilot, only coming back to reality as he reached his goal. He was therefore completely unaware of the shadowy figures approaching from the far side of the parking lot, eyes fixed on his back with impersonal but professional intensity.

As he unlocked the old car and threw his rucksack on the back seat, his thoughts changed direction abruptly as he patted the hood fondly. Since he had been granted tenure at Rainier, he knew he could afford something better, and undoubtedly more reliable, but the rather battered vehicle meant a lot to him. When it was new, years ago now, it had been purchased by his beautiful and vivacious Mom, Naomi, who had wanted something as ecologically efficient as possible for the time. Totally enamoured of the previous century’s Hippie era, and dedicated to the on-going ‘green’ movement, Naomi had led an itinerant lifestyle, embracing freedom of speech, life and love, and foremost in line at every protest against human rights and the destruction of natural resources.

She had never told Blair who had fathered him, even if she actually knew his identity, believing that the two of them were better off without any encumbrance, leaving them free to travel the world as they pleased. Telling her son that he was ‘a child of the world’, she had introduced him to so many sights, cultures and experiences, which for the most part he was truly grateful. It had certainly triggered his love of anthropology and his determination to specialise in the subject.

On the other hand, he would never have told her of the times when he had longed for a measure of stability; the only constant he could rely on being his love of study and his total immersion in education and learning wherever he found himself. Because sad to say, even Naomi herself couldn’t be considered a constant to the same extent, frequently leaving her young son behind with friends or relatives when she had the urge to visit places far afield unsuited to small children.

Nevertheless, Blair knew she had loved him dearly in her own fashion, and he had adored her unconditionally, doing his best to enjoy and savour every moment of their time together once she returned from her travels.

It was only after he had decided to put down roots at Rainier in order to study Anthropology under the tuition and guidance of his hero and mentor, Dr Eli Stoddard that they had effectively parted company, but they still communicated frequently, and Naomi would drop in on occasion, usually unannounced, to his great delight.

And then she had died.

It had happened totally unexpectedly, just before he submitted his PhD thesis, and he had still been ignorant of the fact when he defended it successfully. Apparently Naomi had gone to one of her favourite retreats in the Indian sub-continent; an area quite cut off from the nearest large township, and accessible only by mule or on foot. With no wireless or telephone communication allowed at the ashram, when she had slipped and fallen to her death whilst making a trip to a nearby mountain village, by the time a message had reached the outside world, she had already been cremated and her ashes scattered over the mountainside in one of her favourite meditation spots.

Blair had been predictably devastated, the gloss from his hard-earned academic achievement completely wiped away. At the time unable to afford the fare to travel to India, he vacillated between desperate anguish and deep sorrow, and rage that his adored mother had been ripped away from him so suddenly and drastically. He simply could not comprehend what deity could have cut her life so short, leaving him bereft, and a world so much poorer without her dynamic presence. It was many days before he even considered returning to his studies and teaching duties, and then only because he felt guilty at abandoning his students, who didn’t deserve his self-absorbed disinterest.

Eventually, with the help and support of his many friends and colleagues, he managed to regain a modicum of equilibrium, and turned once more to the solid anchor that learning provided, able to face the future again with a fair amount of his customary happiness and innate optimism.

As Naomi’s only close relative, he had inherited everything, surprised to find that his Mom had actually had access to a very respectable amount of money – the remainder of a substantial bequest left to her by her estranged grandparents. It was undoubtedly the source of her ability to travel wherever she pleased, although Blair knew that he had never consciously questioned it. To Blair the child, their gypsy lifestyle was simply as it was, free and easy and unencumbered by material possessions. Naomi had always travelled light, dismissive of the need to surround herself with useless objects, so there was little for Blair to have to deal with and dispose of. He gladly donated most of what there was to her favourite charities, but kept the Prius for himself, needing the car as a connection to Naomi as much as a means of transport.

Smiling wistfully, he sent his Mom good thoughts wherever she was, and bent to open the driver’s door, when a discreet cough behind him startled him out of his reverie.

He whipped around, heart racing in shock and anxiety as he took in the three men standing before him. Three large and very intimidating men....

“Jeez! Warn a guy before you sneak up on him like that! What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” Anger and fear made him react rudely, completely opposite to his usual easy-going and placid nature. But he wasn’t about to apologise yet. Not until he’d received a plausible explanation for their tacit and narrow-eyed threatening presence.

Just then, a large black unmarked sedan pulled up alongside, and a fourth man emerged, this one beautifully groomed in an austere and understated fashion, his patrician face relaxed and totally inscrutable.

And he frightened Blair far more than the three goons surrounding him.

“Dr Sandburg. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Colonel Collins, and I should like you to accompany me and my colleagues, now, if you please. Naturally, I cannot take the time to offer you a full explanation at this moment, but suffice it to say, your country needs you, melodramatic as that may sound,” and his mouth twisted in a slight, sardonic smile.

“Go to hell! You can’t just go around threatening civilians like this! Of course I’m not going to just go with you!   For all I know, you could be criminals or foreign spies or something. I’m not going anywhere without real proof of your identity, and probably not even then! If you know anything about me at all, you’ll know that me and the military are diametrically opposed. Always have been, always will be. Now, get out of my way!” Fear made Blair belligerent, and his words implied a confidence he certainly didn’t feel, but he was damned if he was going to snivel and cringe. Hell, it was broad daylight, and on a university campus, for pity’s sake! There was nothing to stop him from screaming blue murder and attracting campus security.

Unfortunately, his would-be captors were apparently thinking the same thing, and with an irritated sigh and a resigned expression, Colonel Collins addressed him again.

“As you wish, Dr Sandburg,” and he calmly pulled a weapon from inside his beautifully-cut suit coat and pointed it at a truly shocked Blair. Unable to even utter a word, Blair’s wide-eyed and horrified stare travelled from the man’s cold gaze down to the gun in his hand, and in a fraction of a second, he knew the man was going to shoot him. He registered the finger tightening on the trigger, and heard a ‘phut’ as the weapon discharged. He had an instant in which to wonder whether the gun was silenced, and also wonder why the bullet hadn’t impacted in his flesh. Then he looked down and saw the small dart sticking out of his chest. _‘Oh. Tranq gun....’_ then there was nothing.

\--------------------------------

Blair had woken in this same cell, having no idea what time of day it was, or even how long he had been unconscious. He had already been dressed in the military-style jumpsuit, and the first things he had really been aware of were a horribly dry throat, a raging thirst, and an urgent need to pee. As he forced his heavy lids open, he had shut them quickly against the unshaded brightness of the light inset in the ceiling above him. Groaning in discomfort, he rolled to his side and tried again, blinking rapidly and pleased to find that his vision appeared to be normal. He also realised that his head, although muzzy, wasn’t unbearably painful. Apparently he hadn’t been dosed with anything that left him with a hangover-style headache, so he knew he ought to be grateful for that small mercy.

He also saw that there was a bottle of water beside the cot on which he was lying, so he reached for it eagerly, twisting off the top and drinking with relish, the relief enormous. It was only once he had slaked his thirst that he paused to consider that he should have checked to see if the bottle had been tampered with, but it was too late by then, so he concentrated instead on his other problem.

He saw the lidless toilet in the corner of the small cell, and pushed himself upright, supporting himself against the wall as he shuffled over to relieve his bladder. Fumbling awkwardly with the unfamiliar fastenings of the jumpsuit, he took care of business while trying not to think about whether he was being monitored or not. His over-stressed bladder wasn’t going to wait any longer, so he told himself to suck it up and get on with it. He definitely didn’t need the embarrassment of wetting himself just because he was too shy to use the toilet, and he resolutely refused to contemplate how he was going to cope as and when the other urge kicked in.

Duty done, he shuffled back to the cot and lay down again, feeling weak and dizzy once more.

_‘Bet the water was drugged again....Bastards...!’_ and he sank back into a deep and dreamless sleep.

\-------------------------

The next time Blair awoke, he was disappointed to find his situation hadn’t changed, except for the fact that his stomach was now complaining loudly, demanding sustenance. Since Blair tended to eat sparingly, especially when distracted by more interesting subjects, he supposed that some considerable time had elapsed since his last meal, and he half-heartedly tried to remember when he had last eaten. He sort of remembered having a bowl of soup and a sandwich in Hargrove’s student cafeteria, and he knew it had been before his meeting with Deborah Walsh, but when that had occurred, he had no idea. He’d never been one to be in thrall to the strictures of wearing a watch, so had never owned one, but he found that he was disconcerted to not be able to even guess at the time of day, on account of the fact that his cell had no window or clock of any sort.

And that brought him back to earth with a resounding crash, unable to put off any longer contemplating where he was, and why he had been brought here.

He easily recalled the terrifyingly cold and intimidating Colonel Collins, and his own fury and horror on hearing the man’s commands. He also remembered only too well the cold-blooded way the man had pulled a gun on him, even if it had turned out to be a tranq gun. Blair had no illusions that he would be spared the real thing if he refused to cooperate, or pissed off whoever these guys claimed to represent.

And he had absolutely no idea why the military should be interested in him. He was possibly the most dedicated practising pacifist he knew, and to the best of his knowledge, he had nothing to offer these men.

Unless they needed his expertise?

Because they were interested in sentinel and guide lore.

Or, specifically, one particular guide.

Oh, shit!

\-------------------------------

Hours passed, during which Blair alternatively yelled, cursed, paced and panicked, half afraid of what would happen when someone finally came to collect him, and the other half fearing that he had been left here to die of starvation or, even worse, be driven crazy by his enforced solitary incarceration. Cursed by an over-active imagination, in his increasingly terrified and confused state of mind, he wasn’t at all sure which would be preferable, as long as something happened before he went totally insane with anticipation and dread.

Finally, when he was huddled in the corner, hungry, thirsty and about as cowed and anxious as he had ever been, the door opened, and they came for him.

\-------------------------------------

Ever since Blair had been placed in his cell, he had indeed been under constant observation. His reactions had been monitored with clinical interest by the military psychiatrist overseeing the project, and the results of his psychological assessments and opinions relayed to the mysterious Colonel Collins, who received them with cool satisfaction. He had done his own research on Dr Sandburg, and was gratified to see that his initial assessment and recommendations based on that prior knowledge appeared to be corroborated by the doctor’s findings, and were playing out as predicted. Although certainly highly-strung and somewhat paranoid, the young man was feisty enough despite his obvious discomfort, but was plainly prepared to be guided by common sense and necessity rather than standing on impractical principles. However, whether he needed to be controlled through simple intimidation or the judicious use of appropriate understanding was yet to be determined by Collins’ superiors. Personally, the Colonel preferred the latter. If there was a choice between the carrot and stick approach, he always felt that, in the long run, sympathetic handling returned the best results. A little leeway would go a long way to garnering trust and cooperation in a man as intelligent and unique as Dr Sandburg. Threats and punishment usually produced a speedy capitulation in civilians untrained in dealing with such hardship, but eventually the subject may well rebel, and all benefits would be lost if he or she finally had to be disposed of, too recalcitrant to be of any more use.  Not that he had any particular humanitarian feelings towards the subjects. Like the others, Dr Sandburg was purely a means to an end; a potentially useful tool in the Colonel’s arsenal, and therefore to be maintained in good working condition.

At least, that was what he told himself as he stared at the screen in front of him.

Watching Blair’s minor breakdown as he huddled in the corner of his cot, Collins nodded in satisfaction, and turned to meet the doctor’s inquisitive gaze.

“I think it’s time to introduce ourselves properly to Dr Sandburg. I’ll have him taken to the showers and let him get cleaned up, then he can join us for breakfast. I want to keep him off balance as much as possible, and I’m sure he expects to be beaten and interrogated. But if he’s as intelligent and gifted as I think he is, he’ll be well worth the effort in getting him to cooperate.”

Nodding in agreement, the doctor turned back to the viewing screen for a moment, apparently contemplating the distressed young man as if he was some sort of exceptionally interesting lab rat.

“I agree, Colonel. If he can be persuaded to work with us, it will be immensely beneficial to the Unit. And to your Primary Operative in particular. Shall we proceed?”

\------------------------------

When he heard the scrape of the cover to the peep hole sliding back in advance of the door being opened, Blair forced himself to straighten up and tried to assume a stoic expression, not wishing to present a more pathetic picture to his visitors than he could help despite his inner misery. Having said that, he was morosely certain that they had already had a front-row seat in whatever viewing room was currently playing the ‘Blair Sandburg Reality TV Show’, but there was no need for him to disgrace himself further now he was about to see his captors in the flesh.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t prevent an audible swallow and sudden intake of breath when the door opened to reveal two hard-faced and determined-looking individuals, who both pinned him with stares of identical intensity, plainly alert and ready for any small act of defiance on his part.

As if that was likely, since Blair had already recognised them as two of the men who had been present at his capture, although they were now in regulation BDUs and heavily armed to boot.

He tensed automatically as they entered the cell, seeming to completely fill the small space with their imposing presence, and was hard put to refrain from shrinking back against the wall again as one of them loomed over him.

However, far from attempting to seize him, or harm him in any way, the man simply said, “If you will come with us, sir, we will accompany you to the shower block. Colonel Collins wishes for you to take the opportunity to clean up and get comfortable before joining him for breakfast. This way, sir.”

And Blair was too stunned to do anything but nod wordlessly, sliding off the cot and getting to his feet to be escorted from the cell and down several featureless corridors, feeling like a little kid sandwiched between his two large guards.

By the time they were approaching what appeared to be a communal shower area, Blair was coming out of his temporary funk, and had found his voice again. And a resurgence of spirit and no little antagonism.

“Look, guys, I really appreciate that you’re letting me get cleaned up, and all, but what the hell am I doing here anyway? I know you can’t give away state secrets or such-like, but can you at least tell me where we are? And what branch of the military is this?

“Come on, guys, please?” and he glanced eagerly back and forth between them, trying to elicit some response.

The guard on his right, the one who had addressed him in his cell, stopped and turned to face him, frowning down at him with an expression of disapproval and irritation.

“No, sir, Dr Sandburg, sir. We can’t tell you anything. You’ll have to wait until you meet Colonel Collins, sir. I’m sure he’ll tell you everything you need to know.

“Now, here we are, sir. You’ll find everything you need in the shower room. I regret that we can’t leave you alone, but as long as you behave yourself, we will remain by the door.” And with an air of finality, he placed a huge hand on Blair’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging push towards the shower room entrance.

Realising that arguing would get him nowhere except perhaps back in his cell, Blair allowed himself to be distracted by the lure of a hot shower and the chance to rid himself of at least two days’ worth of beard stubble. Entering the room, he noted the small pile of basic toiletries and a clean coverall already waiting on a bench beside the wall. He also noted the slightly more private toilet half-cubicles at the far end of the room, so he glanced back at his escorts, eyebrow raised in tacit enquiry as he pointed them out. Receiving a nod in acquiescence, he took care of business before stripping off his wrinkled and grubby coverall and stepping under the blissfully hot water issuing from the nearest showerhead.

Although tempted to stand for as long as possible under the luxurious and invigorating spray, curiosity and hunger encouraged him to make short work of shaving, bathing and washing his hair. Since he had no conditioner for his long curls, he pulled them back in a severe ponytail, using the hair tie he had been wearing when taken. He pulled on the clean coverall, finding it even larger than the last one, which had been more than big enough. Sighing in mute exasperation, he rolled the sleeves up as well as the cuffs on the pant legs in order to avoid the embarrassment of tripping over the material. He was pleased to note, however, that someone had thought to give him back his own hiking boots. Although comfortable going barefoot in appropriate circumstances, in this situation it had made him feel oddly vulnerable, and he appreciated the gesture. Of course, his inner cynic muttered snidely that it was probably because his captors hadn’t yet managed to procure small enough military footwear for him, but he shoved the thought aside as he gratefully pulled on his familiar boots.

Clean and relatively comfortable once more, he glanced up at his escorts. “OK, guys, I’m good to go. Thanks for your patience and consideration,” he added sincerely, referring to their unexpected discretion and tact during his ablutions. He had envisaged being scrutinised every moment like the disadvantaged prisoner he believed himself to be, and their thoughtfulness touched him. Although there was no change in their impassive expressions, Blair believed he saw the tiniest flicker of appreciation the eyes of the man who had spoken to him, and he cherished it as evidence of the man’s humanity despite his uniform.

As they took up their positions to each side of him, this time Blair held his peace, not wanting to antagonise the men unnecessarily despite his impatience. He would wait until he confronted the enigmatic Colonel Collins, although he doubted he would like what he was about to hear.

After walking down several more featureless corridors, they finally stopped at a door exactly the same as all the others they had passed, with the exception that it had a small plate bearing the name ‘Colonel C Collins’. During the trip, Blair had heard activity going on behind several of the closed doors, but they had encountered no other personnel since leaving Blair’s cell. He wondered briefly if it was a deliberate ploy to prevent any sort of fraternisation between him and whatever group this was, but all other thoughts were banished when one of his guards knocked sharply, and opened the door on a command from within, and he was ushered in, all his fight-or-flight instincts now on high alert.

\------------------------------

Inside his office, Colonel Collins glanced approvingly at the simple but tasty breakfast laid out to one side of the room. The fresh coffee, Danish pastries, breakfast muffins and bagels should be tempting enough for their visitor, who had to be hungry and thirsty after his many hours of incarceration. The Colonel hoped that Dr Sandburg would relax a little at the hospitable gesture, because for sure once they got down to business, he was going to be a very unhappy young man if his reactions so far were anything to go by.

He looked up to meet the gaze of the room’s only other occupant, the unit’s resident psychiatrist, Dr Willard Morrison. The other man grinned back, the scientist in him plainly eager to meet Sandburg in the flesh having watched the footage from the camera inside Sandburg’s cell.

“I have to say I’m looking forward to this meeting, Colonel. Dr Sandburg is an extraordinary young man by all accounts. One only has to read his articles and papers in anthropology journals to know he has an astounding depth of knowledge about all things sentinel and guide-related. And his reputation as a teacher has students constantly flocking to enrol in his classes at Rainier University. It will be a major coup for the unit if he can be recruited!”

Collins grimaced wryly at the enthusiastic younger man, his own instincts telling him that ‘recruiting’ Sandburg wasn’t an option, insofar as it implied a degree of choice. Sandburg was here, whether he approved or not, and it was up to Collins to make sure he stayed here as a functioning member of the unit.

“I don’t think Dr Sandburg is likely to be as enthusiastic about this situation as you are, Willard,” he responded dryly. “The best we can hope for is that he will cooperate once he realises that he has no other option. It would be a sad waste of potential if he remains too stubborn to accept his new role.”

Morrison’s face fell a little at the colonel’s bleak reply. “Surely it won’t come to that? To dispose of such talent is unthinkable! Such a waste!”

“It’s been done before, Willard, as you well know, although the subjects aren’t usually of the same calibre as Sandburg. But hopefully it won’t come to that in this instance. I have every hope of being able to convince our young visitor that cooperating with us is in his best interest. He may even grow to accept his role in due course, especially once he meets our Primary Operative.

“Anyhow, here he is,” and he turned to face the door, awaiting the knock announcing Sandburg’s imminent arrival. He had been following Blair’s progress via the constant feed from CCTV cameras ever since he left his cell, carefully noting the young man’s demeanour and his attempted interactions with his guards. He had surprised himself with the unusual and unexpected feeling of empathy and protectiveness he had experienced on his first encounter with Sandburg, and the sensation hadn’t diminished any since then despite his best efforts at regaining his usual distance. To be sure, Collins had never felt any such connection with any other member or potential member of his unit bar one, and the unfamiliar emotion was somewhat disconcerting.

The expected knock on the door concentrated his attention again, as he called “Enter!” The door opened to reveal Sandburg and his guards, who ushered the smaller man inside before taking up their positions outside in the corridor on either side of the now closed door.

Sandburg halted just inside the room, his alert gaze checking out the location and the occupants. His face registered surprise as he took in the breakfast spread, before quickly passing over Dr Morrison and finally coming to rest on Collins. He met the colonel’s direct gaze with a steady one of his own despite his obvious nervous tension. He remained silent, however, plainly waiting for the other man to speak first.

Collins took a moment to study the young man, letting him stew for a few seconds longer while he completed his inspection. The slender figure was almost swamped by the coverall, and Collins was hard put to control his slight smirk at the sight of the rolled-up pant legs and sleeves. He made a swift mental note to requisition a few better-fitting ones, probably the smaller ones intended for the few women who occasionally joined the unit, because for sure, Sandburg was far shorter than the usual male recruits.

The severely pulled-back hair drew attention to the man’s arrestingly attractive features, highlighting the high cheekbones, broad brow and spectacular blue eyes. Relaxed and smiling, Blair’s face would almost be called beautiful, and even now was alluring despite the tightness of the lush-lipped mouth and the frown of suspicion creasing his forehead.   Somewhat facetiously, the colonel considered that Sandburg should avoid playing poker, because his mobile face betrayed his every emotion, and he was never going to be able to assume a façade of impassive indifference however much he tried.

Smiling now in invitation, Collins took pity on the increasingly twitchy young man, extending his hand towards an empty seat near the breakfast buffet.

“Dr Sandburg. Please be seated and help yourself to some breakfast. I’m sure you must be hungry, and will welcome the chance to enjoy a decent cup of coffee?”

Blair glanced over at the table again, suspicion warring with desire in his expression as his stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly in protest at its emptiness. Yes, he would just about kill for a cup of coffee under any other circumstances but these, but the fear of being drugged again made him hold back.

Understanding the young man’s dilemma, Collins simply poured three cups of coffee, one for each of them, and took a large sip of the nearest one to prove that the pot was free from any contamination. He also offered his silent guest the plate of muffins, taking one for himself and taking a bite out of it. Realising what the colonel was doing, Dr Morrison played along, adding cream to his coffee and sipping it as he reached for a Danish pastry.

“They’re very good, Dr Sandburg,” he murmured around his mouthful. “It’s certainly better than hospital food anyway!” and he sniggered at his own joke, unsurprised when Blair didn’t join in.

However, Blair reached out a slightly shaking hand and grasped the third cup of coffee, almost inhaling it as a look of unadulterated pleasure flashed briefly across his face. Glancing quickly up at the other men as if he half expected them to either shout at him or physically hold him back, he took one of the breakfast muffins and slowly began to eat. It was every bit as good as it looked, and he made the most of every delicious mouthful. He even managed a slight smile of gratitude when Collins refilled his coffee cup, although he maintained his silence for as long as he could. On closer acquaintance, Collins would come to realise that Blair’s silence was atypical for the normally garrulous young man, and proof of just how disturbed and anxious Blair actually was.

Nevertheless, Sandburg seemed to be just slightly more relaxed, especially after finishing his second cup of coffee, so Collins deemed it time to get down to business.

“Have you had sufficient, Dr Sandburg?” he enquired, surprising Blair even further with his apparently solicitous behaviour. “Please feel free to help yourself, but if you’ve had enough, shall we get things rolling? I’m sure you have plenty of questions you need answering.”

Although Blair had actually been tempted to take another muffin, the harsh reality of the situation kicked in again, and his stomach lurched queasily in response. Shaking his head, he put down his empty coffee cup and faced his inquisitors, eyebrow raised quizzically in tacit invitation.

Collins smiled slowly and nodded in reluctant admiration for this small proof of Sandburg’s resilience, and sat down behind his desk, indicating that Dr Morrison take the adjacent seat.

“First of all, Dr Sandburg, may I introduce my colleague, Dr Willard Morrison? I apologise for not doing so earlier, but I felt that you probably needed sustenance rather than social niceties when you arrived.

“However, if you’re ready, let’s run through your rather impressive qualifications, shall we?” and he pulled a thick file from the drawer beside him. Without further ado, he fixed Blair with a steady and compelling gaze and began.

“As you can see, Dr Sandburg, we have gathered a substantial amount of information about you. We know about your peripatetic childhood, which, I surmise, prompted your interest in anthropology?” He neither expected nor received a vocal confirmation from his tight-lipped listener, and continued with hardly a pause.

“You sat, and passed the entrance exam for Rainier University, commencing your undergraduate programme at age fifteen. You specialised in Sentinel and Guide studies under the guidance of the late lamented Dr Eli Stoddard; one of the most revered experts in that field in his day.

“However, according to your peers, you have long since outstripped his expertise, having obtained your Master’s degree and your PhD by age twenty four, and becoming one of the youngest tenured professors in Rainier’s history.

“You have produced numerous papers and articles on Sentinel and Guide matters from pre-industrialised societies through to modern day, which have been universally acclaimed--”

Here he was interrupted by Dr Morrison, who broke in excitedly, saying, “Incisive, intuitive, even ground-breaking one may say...” only to clam up in blushing embarrassment at a repressive glare from Collins.

“As I was saying. Your expertise in Sentinel and Guide matters is indisputable, and that is one reason why you have been brought here.”

He looked up from the file had been flipping through, pleased but unsurprised to note the spark of curiosity in Sandburg’s eyes.

“So, where is ‘here’? And what branch of alphabet soup do you represent?” The young man’s voice was slightly rough and dry-sounding, although still rich and deep as he finally broke his silence.

“NID? DoD? FBI or CIA? Not Navy Seals, I guess, but something along those lines. Got to be some sort of covert ops outfit, huh?”

The sarcasm and cynicism in his tone was obvious, as was his simmering anger and underlying fear.

“Actually, none of the above, Dr Sandburg,” replied Collins with a grim smile, unperturbed by his listener’s hostility.

“You are correct, however, in your assumption that we are a specialised unit, dedicated to preserving our country’s security. A unit that relies primarily on highly trained Sentinel and Guide pairs.”

Blair snorted derisively at that. “Oh, come on, man! The military has always utilised sentinels and guides whenever they could get their hands on them! Hell, it’s not so long ago when conscription was compulsory! I still don’t see why you need me here?”

“Well, what you say is certainly true, Dr Sandburg. But as you are well aware, sentinels and guides come with as wide a range of abilities as the rest of us mortals, and we only use the best of the best.

“And the best people deserve the best support and backup as we can provide. And that means you, Dr Sandburg.”

“No! No, it doesn’t!” Blair countered, horror edging into his tone. “Even if all those flattering things you said about me were true, why can’t you just use my work? Why do you need me?”

“Because you have another quality we want, Dr Sandburg. Your guide abilities.”

Blair threw himself back in his seat, the sweat of incipient panic breaking out on his brow and upper lip.

“I.I don’t understand? I’ve never claimed any sort of particular guide capability. Shit, I’ve never even bothered to register my test results! How the hell would you know what I’m capable of? I’m nothing special, believe me!”

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe you, Dr Sandburg. You may have considered yourself safe and under the radar when you deliberately covered up your mandatory test results, but there are plenty of means one can use to reveal the truth. And the truth is, Dr Sandburg, that you have one of the most highly-rated sets of results ever recorded.

“And coupled with your expert knowledge and remarkable intelligence, that makes you perfect for our unit. Furthermore, just in case you believed otherwise, the outlawed compulsory conscription mandate can be reactivated for certain individuals under specific circumstances. Circumstances affecting national security.

“So you see, Dr Sandburg, when I said your country needs you, I meant it!”

Shaken to the core, Blair stared at Collins for a long moment, eyes huge and dark with the enormity of his horror and betrayal before shaking his head in denial, whispering hoarsely, “But...but my job? My students? I can’t--”

“Oh, but you can, Dr Sandburg,” Collins replied, expression and tone smug and self-assured.

“We have already taken care of that for you. Rainier has been advised of your willing enlistment, your apartment has been cleaned out and your belongings put into storage.  In other words, it’s a ‘done deal’, Doctor.”

Collins sat back and fixed his prey with a narrow-eyed stare, initially unmoved at the effect his speech had had on Sandburg.   The young man had paled dramatically as the blood drained from his face, and his breathing grew erratic as he fought to absorb Collins’ words. Rendered speechless from shock, Blair gaped at his tormentor, and finally allowed himself to descend into the full panic attack he had been holding off for hours. Fighting to draw enough breath into his tortured lungs, he welcomed the familiar darkness of oblivion even as he dimly registered Collins’ suddenly alarmed command.

“Medic alert! My office, now!”

\------------------------------

**Part 2: Jim:**

**One month later, The Medical Centre, Sentinel and Guide Unit HQ, somewhere in Colorado:**

Nurse Wendy Willows contemplated her deeply-sleeping patient, quietly setting down her tray of equipment necessary for taking routine vitals on the nightstand beside the bed. The man was an impressive specimen. Tall, buff and handsome, the thin bed covers failed to disguise the fact that his body was beautifully sculpted, and Wendy grinned a little to herself. Like most of the unit’s nursing staff, male and female alike, she couldn’t help but be attracted by his sheer physical presence.

But that wasn’t all by any means. Captain James Ellison was nothing less than a hero to all of them; the top-performing operative in the covert Sentinel Unit. An Alpha sentinel of the highest rank, with all five senses enhanced to an unprecedented degree, he and his team were invariably the first choice for clandestine operations both at home and abroad. Certainly the captain had always been a fine soldier and leader even before his heightened senses kicked in, being courageous, loyal and intelligent. But once fully on-line, he had become astounding, and was snapped up with alacrity by the specialist unit’s recruiters.

The only down-side that Wendy was aware of was that so far, Ellison had failed to find a compatible guide and permanent partner, even amongst those already serving in the unit, or on loan from other branches of the military. It wasn’t that the majority of them wouldn’t have given their all for the chance to serve alongside the captain. It was simply a fact that he had yet to choose a suitable candidate, and only worked with a guide in the field on a superficial and temporary basis if there was a real possibility of zoning or suffering from sensory spikes brought on by a combination of unforeseen conditions and circumstances. And up until now that course of action had been highly successful; Ellison’s iron control and sheer willpower being strong enough to contain such situations despite varying measures of personal discomfort.

However, on this occasion, it had been a very close thing.

Nurse Willows didn’t know the details, but the scuttlebutt she had heard suggested that this time Ellison’s temporary guide hadn’t been able to pull him out of a deep zone brought on by an unexpected drug spillage. In consequence, Ellison had taken a bullet in his left shoulder and a glancing blow to the head before his team had pulled him out of the line of fire, hence his current condition.

Wendy sighed as she straightened already smooth sheets. This time, the captain would be fine, but she dearly hoped that the unit’s commanding officers, like Colonel Collins, could locate a suitable guide before the inevitable happened and they lost their best team leader. And maybe his team along with him, in a worst-case scenario.

A self-confessed ‘army brat’, Wendy had known from an early age that her vocation in life was to be an army nurse, so she had joined the Medical Corps at the earliest opportunity. Conscientious, highly-trained and a very talented nurse, she was also a low-grade guide and empath. Therefore, when the opportunity arose to join the staff at the highly-esteemed Sentinel Unit’s specialised Medical Facility, she had immediately applied, and succeeded in transferring here, and thus far she had enjoyed every moment.

Her only real regret was that she was too lowly-rated as a guide to be partnered with any of the sentinels serving as field operatives, let alone Captain Ellison, but she was pragmatic enough to accept the fact with commendable equanimity, and dedicated herself to pursuing her original career choice to the best of her ability.

She just wished that Ellison could find a real partner, and soon.

Perhaps the new Doctor could help? There was no one in the medical centre who hadn’t heard of Dr Blair Sandburg, and his recruitment by Colonel Collins and Dr Morrison was a considered to be a remarkable coup for the Sentinel Unit. Despite his comparative youth, his expertise in the field of Sentinel and Guide lore was unsurpassed, and his work formed the basis of pretty much all the current standard practices within the unit. Wendy herself admired the young professor immensely, and like the majority of her colleagues, she had been overjoyed to hear of his arrival.

However, at this point in her ruminations, her smile became marred by a slight frown. Because she was fairly certain that the young man she encountered on occasion in the centre wasn’t particularly happy to be here.

Moving quietly around her patient’s bed, taking the necessary readings with practised ease, she recalled her own first impressions, and the conclusions to which she had reluctantly come.

Like most of her friends, she had eagerly read Dr Sandburg’s articles as they were released, and had watched one or two of his lectures on the internet. The young professor always seemed to be smiling, glowing and bouncing with enthusiasm for his chosen subject, his long curls sometimes tied back, and at others worn loose, framing his undeniably attractive face.

However, the young man Wendy had encountered over the last few weeks was greatly changed. The long curls were gone, and those that remained clustered closely around his head. His face was pale, unnaturally still and thin, the inner glow and animation gone, and a profound sadness seemed to lurk in the depths of the huge blue eyes.

True, he always offered Wendy and her colleagues a gentle smile, and was invariably polite and courteous, but there was a worrying lack of the expected energy, and the joyful enthusiasm of the internet lecturer was absent. He was also invariably accompanied at all times by a large and silent uniformed and armed ‘minder’, and Wendy wasn’t sure whether the man acted as bodyguard, or prison guard, and she really wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know which one it was.

So perhaps the unit in which she was so proud to serve had darker side than she cared to contemplate?

With a sigh, she filled in her patient’s charts and continued with her next tasks, sadly aware that there was nothing she could do but hope that something would occur to restore young Dr Sandburg’s sparkle and _joie de vivre_ before the young man faded away altogether.

\---------------------------------

Some hours later, Jim Ellison rose gradually to consciousness, and fervently wished he hadn’t bothered. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been injured before on occasion, both before and after his senses had come online, so he thought knew what to expect, but this was entirely different. His head felt as if it was about to split apart from the pain of the headache from hell; his skin felt as if it was being rubbed raw from the scratchy sheets in which he was wrapped, and his nose and ears were assaulted with the myriad scents and sounds he associated with being in some sort of hospital ward. And when he experimentally attempted to crack open one eye, he quickly slammed it shut again, unable to deal with the blinding brightness of the room’s overhead lighting.

Well, shit! Wherever he was, his carers didn’t seem to know that they were dealing with an unbonded sentinel, or he would have automatically have been dosed with chemical suppressants. Groaning aloud in disgust, he gritted his teeth in impotent fury, knowing he’d have to control his erratic senses on his own, and the gods only knew how long that would take. Certainly, it wasn’t as if he actually liked the feeling of being temporarily muffled and fuzzy from medication, but it beat the hell out of waking to the sort of sensory spikes that otherwise would require the assistance of a bonded guide to contain with any semblance of ease.

After several minutes of running through the sort of mental exercises he had been forced to resort to in the absence of a guide, he carefully opened his eyes again, blinking rapidly, but pleased to find that, provided he barely squinted, he could just about make out his surroundings.

And was completely taken aback when he recognised the private room in the Sentinel Unit’s own Medical Facility in which he had been previously treated.

What the fuck was going on? They _knew_ he needed the suppressants! They _knew_ he had no guide! Bloody medics. Even if they had new staff, they should be aware of how to deal with any injured sentinel or guide, bonded or not. Growling deep in his throat, he closed his now streaming eyes again, conjuring up pictures of what he would like to do to whoever was supposed to be treating him. Unaware, or rather, unconcerned due to his present discomfort that he was being closely monitored from an adjoining room, he gradually drifted back into a light doze, deciding he might as well make the most of whatever rest he could manage until someone deigned to check on him.

Shortly after, he became aware that he had company. His senses, not unexpectedly, were still cutting in and out, but tiny movements in the air currents, and the faintest hint of an alluring scent teasing his erratic sense of smell roused him enough to crack open his eyes again. Still forced to squint from beneath almost closed lids, he made out a small figure in a white coat quietly approaching the end of the bed in order to reach out and take the charts hanging there. Another soldier stood just within the doorway, and Jim thought he recognised one of Colonel Collins’ hand-picked security guards.

But he had no idea who the small guy was. He definitely wasn’t Dr Madison, the Unit’s resident physician, and he wasn’t that idiot shrink Willard Morrison. So he must be new, and incompetent to boot. However, Jim restrained himself from immediately letting fly with the verbal abuse he had intended to deliver, feeling the need to study the intruder a little more.

And while he watched, he had the oddest sensation that he was supposed to know the guy. And furthermore, his senses began to settle bit by bit, until if not exactly comfortable, at least Jim’s aches and pains felt as if they were now within a range that could be borne with relative ease.

Able now to open his eyes fully, he continued to scan the young man, who was still engrossed in Jim’s charts, and unaware of Jim’s scrutiny. Concentrating hard, Jim realised that his senses were not only settling, but were actually feeling sharper than before. So this guy had to be a guide of some sort, but a stronger one Jim than had encountered to date.  

Intrigued, Jim carefully noted everything about the man, automatically committing every detail to memory. He didn’t even try to deny the pull of attraction he felt towards him, comfortable with his own sexuality. Like many sentinels and guides, Jim was bi, simply because it was practical to be so, since many compatible partnerships were single-sex. It was an accepted fact that life-bonding frequently led to sex and intimacy, so there was no social stigma attached, at least in the eyes of the majority. And the military had long since had to accept ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ as standard practice.

The young man was about 5’6” or 5’7” tall, which, although within the average range, was considerably shorter than the usual recruit to this unit. Having said that, Jim knew that a few of the guides weren’t overly tall, so that in itself wasn’t a problem. He was also perfectly proportioned, with surprisingly wide shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and shapely legs, at least as far as Jim could deduce from the slight body movements within the loose-fitting clothing.   But he was too thin, and he had an unhealthy pallor which detracted from his otherwise lovely face. Because he certainly was lovely. Even in profile, face downturned as he studied the paperwork in his hands, Jim noted with approval the wide brow, spectacular bone structure and lush, kissable mouth. And Jim was sure that, when he looked up, the young man would have huge, blue eyes.

Because all of a sudden, Jim was certain he knew who this person was. Despite the dramatic change in appearance from the most recent media images he had seen of the man, this had to be Dr Blair Sandburg, the renowned expert on sentinels and guides.

And Jim had no idea why he should be here.

It was time to get some answers.

“Dr Sandburg, I presume,” Jim sneered dryly, prepared to snigger at the effects of his words. However, Sandburg’s unexpectedly extreme reaction instantly quelled the thought, leaving Jim feeling cruel and mean instead, as if he had kicked a puppy. The young man yelped in shock, heart thundering in the sentinel’s ears and face paling even more as he span around to face the bed, the charts flying from his hands to scatter across the floor.   Jim was peripherally aware that the large guard, rather than being amused at his charge’s discomfiture, sent Jim an evil glare as he stepped forward immediately to grasp Sandburg’s arm in a supportive rather than restrictive hold.

“You OK, doc?” he murmured, clearly alarmed at the smaller man’s wide-eyed stare and panicked breaths. “You need to sit down?”

After a few fraught seconds, and exerting a considerable force of will, Blair managed to pull himself together somewhat, and, red-faced now in embarrassment, he offered the man a shaky smile.

“Yeah, Sam. I. I’m OK. Just a bit of a shock you know? I’ll be alright now, thanks,” and he gently freed his arm and turned to face the bed again, anger now warring with shame on his expressive features.

As the large guard bent to retrieve the scattered paperwork, still casting disapproving glares at Jim, Blair stepped forward a little to address Jim, voice deep and commendably steady despite his underlying anxiety and simmering irritation.

“I suppose you think that’s funny, Captain Ellison? Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t enjoy being the butt of some thick-skinned jarhead’s idea of humour. I don’t want to be here anymore than you apparently want me to be, and, given the choice, I’d prefer it if I never set eyes on you again.

“However, I’ve been ordered to come see you and make an assessment of your condition, so let’s get it over with, shall we?”

Suddenly remorseful, and aware that he deserved the other man’s anger, Jim met Sandburg’s steady gaze, hating himself for the hurt he had caused to darken the blue depths. Giving himself a second or two before responding by pressing the button to raise the head of the bed to a more comfortable angle, he offered Sandburg a rueful half-smile, saying, “You’re right, Chief, and I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, and just because I feel like shit, I had no reason to take it out on you.

“But why _are_ you here? And why haven’t I been given the standard suppressants? If this is some new protocol being developed to deal with injured unbonded sentinels, I gotta say that so far, it stinks! And I never was one to enjoy being a lab rat.”

His own discomfort instantly extinguished by concern for the man in the bed, Blair found his instinctive guide response kicking in despite himself, and he moved closer to the bed, almost, but not quite ready to reach out and touch the hand lying nearest to him.

With a deep sigh of resignation, Blair forced his gaze up to meet Ellison’s again as he responded, tone now more moderate and sympathetic and his own lips quirking wryly.

“OK, apology accepted, Sentinel Ellison. And I’m sorry I snapped at you like that too. I didn’t know you hadn’t been given the usual treatment, and I thought you were just being a bad-tempered asshole! I guess we were supposed to figure this thing out between us, huh? Like throwing two specimens into the same cage to see their reactions,” he added bitterly, expression suddenly dark with resentment.

“Well, you _are_ the acknowledged expert, Chief, so what do you think? I’m guessing it’s not something you would have recommended yourself?”

“Of course not!” Blair snapped, affronted. _“No one_ in this day and age ought to even consider allowing a sentinel to suffer unnecessarily, for whatever reason!

“But then again, Captain, it seems to me that you don’t seem to be too bad? At least, not as uncomfortable as I would have expected, without the medication...” and he tailed off thoughtfully, a speculative frown creasing the smooth brow.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Darwin, but you’re right. I started to feel better as soon as you walked in the door, so I’m guessing you have a pretty high guide rating yourself, huh? That’s got to be part of the reason for bringing you in here.”

“No. No!” Blair replied instantly, backing off and shaking his head in denial. “I’m here so they can use my knowledge, that’s all. The guide element isn’t important,” he added softly, desperately needing Ellison to believe the lie. He knew he was out of luck, however, as the look in Jim’s ice-blue eyes became thoughtful, lips pressing together in a firm line as an irritated frown settled between his brows.

“Keep telling yourself that, Chief. But I know how these guys work. I think you were sent to me on purpose. I’ve been searching for a strong, compatible guide ever since I came online, and I think you’re it, professor. But I guess if it’s not something you’re happy with, then at least you can get out before the old primal bonding instincts cut in. Go back to your classroom, Chief. You don’t look happy here.”

He turned to stare at the wall, angry with himself and surprised at his immediate sense of impending loss as he finished speaking. He suddenly realised that he was already imprinting the smaller man, but was equally sure that Sandburg would run away screaming rather than bond with a soldier. He was disconcerted, therefore, when he turned to face the young man again, to see the expression of intense misery and despair clouding the attractive features.

“What’s the matter, kid? It’s not that bad. I may be disappointed, but I’m not an ogre. I won’t force you to stay.”

“You might not, but _they_ will!” Blair whispered dejectedly. “I wasn’t given a choice.”

“Nonsense! They can’t force you either. Compulsory conscription’s a thing of the past, Chief.”

Sinking down onto the chair beside the bed as if his legs couldn’t hold him any longer, Blair’s voice broke as he replied, “No, it’s not, Captain Ellison. Colonel Collins explained it very forcefully to me. Under the right circumstances, individuals can still be co-opted against their will if it’s deemed to be beneficial for national security, and you’re right. It was never just about my academic work alone. That’s always been available for use. I was brought here for you. I realise that now. To act as guide to their Primary Operative....” And despite his best efforts, a single tear leaked out from the corner of his eye as he lowered his head to stare at his feet; unable for now to face the man he knew was destined to be his sentinel, and the unwitting centre of his existence from now on.

“Awww, Chief...!” Jim stared at the bowed head, filled with dismay at the despair and conviction in Sandburg’s assertion. He reached out, intending to take the tightly clasped hands in his own when they were distracted by the door opening to admit Dr Madison, preceded by Nurse Willows, who carried a tray of instruments in her hands.

Her professional cheery smile slipped as her empathy immediately picked up on Dr Sandburg’s deep distress, and she stepped forward quickly to place the tray on the nightstand. Unmindful of Madison’s glare of disapproval aimed between her shoulders, she murmured worriedly, “Are you OK, Dr Sandburg? Can I do anything to help?”

Even as Blair shook his head wordlessly, trying to pull himself together enough to look up and meet her concerned gaze, Madison stepped forwards and almost shouldered the nurse aside as he harrumphed in displeasure.

“That’s quite enough, Nurse Willows. There’s no need for concern. Dr Sandburg is just coming to terms with his new position here. Isn’t that right, Blair?” he added pointedly, staring directly into the wounded blue eyes suddenly raised to meet his.

And that was quite enough for Jim. Growling again, he virtually launched himself from the bed in spite of his injuries, seizing the lapels of Madison’s lab coat in his one good hand and shaking the tall, cadaverous-looking man like a rag doll.

“Don’t ever touch or threaten my guide again, Madison! And if you know what’s good for you, you can keep away from the rest of my team in future until your presence is required on medical grounds. Now, GET OUT!” and he threw the terrified man away from him to be caught and steadied by Sandburg’s big guard, who couldn’t quite keep his own look of disgust off his face as he did so.

Worried now that Ellison was going to do himself further mischief, Blair quickly reached out to grasp his forearm, automatically rubbing it soothingly and murmuring, “It’s OK, Sentinel. You can stand down now. The threat has gone, and I’m OK.”

Ellison calmed instantly at Blair’s soft words, but continued to pin the somewhat dishevelled and trembling medic with a narrow-eyed stare, almost daring him to respond.

Wendy stayed back, well aware of the dangers of getting between an angry sentinel and his guide, and was just considering going for help when the door burst open again to reveal Colonel Collins, Dr Morrison and two more large guards, alert and clearly expecting to have to restrain the furious sentinel.

Collins and Morrison had been watching the proceedings from the observation room with great interest, and had been prepared for some sort of possible incident, although the sheer ferocity of Ellison’s spontaneous reaction had taken them by surprise.

Nevertheless, the Colonel remained in rigid command of both his tone and ice-cold demeanour as he quickly took stock of the situation before saying briskly, “I believe it’s time for your debrief, Captain Ellison. If Dr Madison is in agreement, we’ll commence immediately.”

The ingrained reflex to obey orders kicked in and Jim subsided, but not without a noticeable pause and a deliberate half step to the side, partially obscuring Sandburg.

“Sir, yes, sir!” he responded crisply, snapping to attention as best he could with one arm in a sling, but still managing to look impressive even in hospital gown and boxers.

Collins regarded him coolly, a slight smile of grim satisfaction lifting the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.

“At ease, Captain,” he said smoothly. “Please return to your bed and allow Nurse Willows and Dr Madison to give you a quick once-over. If everything checks out satisfactorily, then we’ll begin. And of course, Dr Sandburg is very welcome to stay,” and he flicked a glance at the smaller man, smugly aware that Sandburg was in no doubt that once again he had no choice in the matter, despite the apparently polite implication that he did.

Although plainly disgruntled, Jim moved back to the bed and climbed in somewhat stiffly, but not before he had ensured that Blair was seated safely on the opposite side, away from his superior officer and the other medical personnel.

Wendy Willows quickly took care of the routine checks, and a still noticeably rattled Madison pronounced Ellison fit enough for the debrief, after which they quickly exited the room, leaving Jim, Blair, Colonel Collins and Dr Morrison to themselves, if one didn’t count the three large guards, who stationed themselves without fuss beside the door.

“Right then, Captain Ellison. Let’s begin, shall we?” and Collins cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Jim.

At the other side of the bed, a subdued Blair couldn’t help but think, somewhat facetiously, that if Collins had been the type to rub his hands together in glee, he would be doing so right about now.

\--------------------------

Some time later, Colonel Collins declared himself satisfied with the de-brief, and shut off the recorder he had been using to document Jim’s account. Before leaving, he took a few moments to study his men, knowing that Dr Morrison would have been making his own observations, and wanting to compare their opinions as soon as possible.

As expected, Ellison’s answers had been succinct and factual as he had described the covert operation, detailing how he and his team had infiltrated the terrorist group in Bogota who had been using the profits made from drug dealing to finance acts of terrorism in North America. He described the unavoidable shoot-out that had effectively ended the gang’s activities; at least until they had replaced their main protagonists; matter-of-factly recounting what he remembered of the action before he had been incapacitated. Collins had filled him in on what he had been told by Ellison’s second in command, explaining that it had been a stray burst of fire that had punctured one of the bags containing high-grade cocaine. The resulting spill had taken Ellison down, since he had had his senses wide open at the time. As Collins had been fully updated on the successful extraction, he described that also, since Ellison had been completely out of it at the time, remaining unconscious until he had awoken here in the Medical Facility.

Collins noticed that Sandburg, who had remained quiet and withdrawn throughout the recitation until that point, suddenly shot Ellison a look compounded of shock and concern – a reaction that Collins found both gratifying and enlightening. It might just possibly be the first indication that he had made the right decision to throw these two together, and that a full bonding might be on the cards after all. He would discuss it with Willard as soon as they repaired to his office.

He then realised that the Captain, although apparently impassive and calm, was actually exhibiting signs of pain and distress if one noted the tell-tale tightening of the skin around his eyes and the muscle in his cheek which was beginning to twitch with the increasing force of his clenching jaw. Sandburg had obviously noticed, and had reached over, rubbing Ellison’s forearm and murmuring instructions almost sub-vocally. The results were almost instantaneous as the sentinel relaxed into the touch, and Collins had to suppress a smile of satisfaction at this further proof of their compatibility.

Catching Morrison’s eye, he rose to leave, ushering the psychiatrist out before him as he addressed the pair once more.

“Thank you, Captain Ellison. I shall pass on your report to General Marshall, who I’m sure will be satisfied with the outcome, except, of course as regards your injury. I’ll leave you both to get acquainted for a while, but I require Dr Sandburg’s presence in my office at 1300 hours.

“Try to get some rest, Captain. If you continue to recover as rapidly as you seem to be at the moment, I’m sure Dr Madison will be happy to discharge you very shortly.

“Good day, gentlemen,” and he closed the door behind him, leaving two very disturbed men in his wake.

\-------------------------------

Jim stared at the closed door for long moments, a slight frown creasing his brow as he tried to make sense of his uncharacteristically unsettled emotional state. However, he gradually became aware of the soothing warmth still emanating from the gentle pressure on his arm, and he moved his head carefully so he could study the young man at his side.

Blair also appeared to be staring at the door, but the faraway look in his wide, worried eyes suggested that he was deep inside his own mind, probably trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last few hours. Feeling an unprecedented surge of compassion for the troubled guide, Jim sat quietly so as not to disturb him unnecessarily.

Nevertheless, a few seconds later, Blair came back to himself, and, realising he was still stroking Jim’s arm, snatched his hand away, blushing deeply as he stammered his apology.

“I’m sorry, man. Um...I wasn’t thinking what I was doing. Didn’t mean to get all touchy-feely on you like that,” and he lowered his head, a sour tang of what Jim surmised must be dismay tainting his otherwise alluring personal scent.

“Hey, no harm, no foul, Chief,” replied Jim soothingly, simultaneously regretting the sudden loss of contact. _And how weird is that?_ he thought to himself. _How often have I had to control myself to hold off from slapping away other guides who have had to touch me, simply trying to do their job? There really must be a connection between us. And how unfair is that? The poor kid – stuck with me and my job until one or both of us gets killed in action. Shit. That sucks!_

When Blair lifted his head to meet Jim’s gaze, Jim’s heart clenched in sympathy at the deep sadness in the huge blue eyes. Reaching out to grasp the smaller man’s hand, he squeezed it carefully, marvelling at his own gentleness and need to offer comfort.

“It’s hardly surprising you’re all out of sorts, Chief. You’ve had a whole lot of new stuff to deal with – life-changing decisions to make – and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that you’ve been dragged into this situation. That is...um, how can I say this without sounding selfish and crass? I mean that, for myself, I admit I couldn’t be happier.   I can already tell that we have a connection, and it won’t be any hardship to progress that to the full bond. You’re a very attractive man, Dr Sandburg.

“But I understand that it’s hardly what you want, Chief. I mean, you already had a life.”

Blair worried his lower lip for a moment as he contemplated the big captain, appreciating Jim’s attempts to comfort him even though Blair’s baser instinct was still to run away screaming at the unfairness of it all.

Sighing deeply, he attempted a sad smile as he formulated his reply, absently contemplating how words, once so intrinsic a part of his character, seemed to have become so much harder to utter over the weeks since his ‘recruitment’.

“Thanks, Jim. I mean, I truly appreciate your kindness, man. After all, whatever you say, I can hardly be the sort of guide you really wanted – needed. I am so not military in any sense, despite what Colonel Collins and his staff have tried to drill into me. I mean, they even tried to make me fire a gun, and I nearly freaked out on them when I discovered I could actually hit the target!” and he chuckled ruefully at the recollection.

“But seriously, how can you say you want me with you on operations like that one you just described? I’ll be a liability, man. I’m a self-confessed coward through and through. What if I get you hurt – or killed?

“I can’t do it, Captain Ellison. You can’t _want_ me to do it!

“And you’re right. I had a life. One I loved, and it’s been so hard to come to terms with the understanding that I might never get back to it, whether our bond works or not. It’s so not fair, man.

“And that’s another thing. The bond. I mean, please don’t get me wrong. It’s not you, or even the thought of sex that bothers me. Hell, you’re a god, man! How could I not want that? And my Mom Naomi, goddess rest her soul, always told me that it was the person, not the package that was important, and I’m so down with that.

“It’s just that I never wanted to bond. Ever. I believed I was doing my bit in academia, teaching my students about the wonderful gift of sentinels and guides and their amazing contribution to society.

“But not as used by the military. And certainly not involving me, a self-proclaimed pacifist.

“I’m so sorry, man. You have to be so disappointed in me...” and he tailed off, turning away again to stare at the wall, unable to hold Jim’s gaze any longer.

_Well, that’s telling me!_ Jim thought, staring at the back of his potential guide-to-be’s curly head.   _Guess I’m going to have to do some pretty good verbal tap-dancing if I’m going to change his mind. Shit! Jim Ellison and words! This is going to be hard..._

“OK, Sandburg – Blair. I _do_ hear what you’re saying, and, believe it or not, I do understand where you’re coming from. And still sorrier than I can say that you – both of us – have been dealt this hand.

“But think about this, Chief. You say you’ve never wanted to bond, but then again, have you ever really tried to find a compatible sentinel? I’ve been looking for the right partner ever since I came online, but only because I thought I _had_ to, not because I really wanted to. I just wanted to do my job to the best of my ability, and that meant finding a compatible guide.

“And look what’s happened, Blair. Two of the most mismatched individuals you could hope to come up with! So, don’t you think there might be something in this? Perhaps it _needs_ apparently mismatched people to create the strongest bonds!”

He was mightily relieved when he saw Blair’s expressions morph from outright disbelief, through scepticism, to genuine thoughtfulness, and Jim mentally high-fived himself as he watched the spark of true scientific interest ignite in the wonderful blue eyes.

“Wow, Jim!” Blair breathed, totally engaged in the concepts whizzing around inside his brain.

“I never thought of it that way. Truly. Despite all my research and all the pairings I studied, it never occurred to me to approach it from that angle! I never really considered personality as part of the equation – just each individual’s abilities from a scientific point of view. I just took it for granted that they’d have some sort of physical attraction on some level, like pheromones, empathy, that sort of thing, like any other relationship. And it would work simply because they were comfortable with each other, and they were satisfied with the end results of their combined gifts. After all, not every partnership progresses beyond a comfortable working relationship. Perhaps you’ve hit the nail on the head. Perhaps, like many of the best marriages, it takes opposites to attract – and subsequently create – the strongest relationships.”

He ducked his head, looking somewhat abashed as he continued. “I’m sorry, Jim. I shouldn’t sound so surprised that you could come up with such a plausible concept. After all, I was given your file to study, and I know you’re college educated and highly intelligent in your own right.

“And I have to admit that I have no concept of permanent relationships. I loved Mom dearly, but she never stayed in one place – or with one partner – for more than a few weeks or months at most before ‘detaching with love’, so all I ever learned was to protect myself from potential heartbreak by holding back from real commitment. I didn’t want to hurt - or be hurt – like that.

“Perhaps it’s time for me to learn something new. If you still feel the same way, that is...” and he peeked shyly up at Jim from beneath his lashes, for all the world like a little kid seeking approval.

And Jim knew immediately that there was no artifice in the anxious enquiry, so he reached out with his good arm and wrapped it around Sandburg’s shoulders, pulling the smaller man in for a hug before replying, “You bet I do, Chief. We’ll make it work, whatever it takes, I promise.

“Now. It’s nearly 1300 hours, so you’d better get your skates on if you’re not going to be late for your appointment with Collins.

“And don’t worry. I’ve got your back, babe, whatever he says. You coming back once you’re done with him?”

“Yeah, Jim. I’ll be back. Promise!”

Blair disengaged himself carefully from Jim’s one-armed hug, and made for the door, a smile of hope and genuine friendship on his face as he made his exit, followed as usual by his tame bodyguard.

\-----------------------------

On reaching Colonel Collins’ office, Blair offered a smile and word of thanks to Sam as the guard opened the door for him. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the room, the feeling of anxiety he always experienced in the man’s presence exacerbated by the fact that Dr Morrison was also in attendance, but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The two were as thick as thieves when it came to sentinel-related problems, and he himself had certainly caused them a few.

However, on this occasion he felt a little less inclined to be cowed, deliberately calling to mind the encouraging words and image of the man he dared to think of as a potential friend and protector; maybe even his sentinel? And he was surprised to find that the concept no longer frightened him quite as much even if he wasn’t yet truly enthusiastic about the possibility.

“Ah, Dr Sandburg. Please take a seat.” Collins’ tone was almost unctuous as he greeted Blair, and his normally impassive face wore a definite hint of smugness and self-satisfaction as he indicated the chair in front of his desk.

With his inner alarm bells ringing, Blair sat down carefully, the tension obvious in his own face as his alert and inquisitive gaze flicked from one to the other of his interviewers. He offered no word, however, determined to put the onus on them to break the silence and explain exactly what they wanted with him this time.

Collins’ expression hardened slightly as he realised what Sandburg was doing once again, but he couldn’t help but feel a touch of relief and even reluctant pride at the young man’s small display of backbone. Sandburg had become so quiet and withdrawn since his ‘recruitment’ that Collins had become concerned that his unique and free-spirited personality might have been damaged too severely by the military’s idea of induction and basic training, so any hint of resilience was to be welcomed.

“So, Dr Sandburg, what do you make of our Primary Operative? You certainly seemed to be making progress with your relationship despite a rocky start. What did your expertise – and your instincts – tell you about his capability?”

Blair knew he shouldn’t be surprised that they should be aware of everything that had taken place in Ellison’s room. Constant surveillance was something he’d become accustomed to ever since his arrival at the Unit’s HQ and Medical Facility, and had undoubtedly been in place in the half-way house near Cascade where he had been held for the first few days of his ‘induction process’.   It still never failed to leave a sour taste in the mouth, however, as Blair had always enjoyed and embraced his right to privacy up until now.

Deliberately donning his impersonal ‘scientific’ persona, Blair tried to keep his comments cool and factual, unwilling to betray his actual thoughts and emotions even though he knew his listeners would undoubtedly drag them out of him eventually. He was ruefully aware that he had never been one to refrain from responding when prompted – or goaded – having always enjoyed a good debate and exchange of ideas. And these men knew exactly what buttons to push when it came to eliciting the required reaction from him.

“Captain Ellison is undoubtedly one of the strongest alpha sentinels I have ever come across. I would need to refer to his full test results to confirm my assessment, but I’m certain you will have quantified his range through routine testing?”

When Willard Morrison nodded eagerly in affirmation, he continued, “I have had the opportunity to work with other alphas in the past, whose ranges were probably almost as impressive, but I have never met one who has worked successfully for so long without a bonded guide. The captain obviously has exceptional control under all but the most trying circumstances, and I can understand why he has been able to stay in the field for far longer than normally advisable. With his senses dialled down and held at a reasonable level, he would be able to function more than adequately as long as he has the backup of a temporary guide when he needs to extend his range on one or possibly two senses when the situation demands it. But not over-extend, and certainly not to his optimum limit.

“Because therein lies the danger,” he continued more quietly. “You know as well as I do that when such a strong sentinel does zone, it is far deeper and potentially more life-threatening than normal. And therefore it requires a much stronger guide to be able to reach him to pull him out of it quickly.

“From what I heard today, I understand that this is the first time Captain Ellison has actually zoned at a critical point during an operation, and apparently he survived purely through the quick-thinking of his teammates.

“It can’t happen again. The next time could be fatal, and not just for the captain. It could endanger his colleagues instead, or even innocent bystanders. And I’m sure he would never forgive himself for that,” he finished, voice fading into silence as he contemplated the traumatic after-effects of such a dreadful occurrence.

Staring off into the middle distance, his face took on an introspective expression as he considered his own words and their undoubted effect on his listeners.

He had done nothing but state the truth as he saw it, surprised by the depths of his desperate need to protect Ellison as the gifted individual he assuredly was. But in doing so, he had virtually painted himself into a corner as far as Collins was concerned. He had pretty much admitted that he was the strongest candidate to be Jim’s guide, and Collins would surely push his advantage now and set the wheels in motion for Blair to become Jim’s bonded companion irrespective of whether Blair still had real reservations about his own desires or ability in the field.

For a moment, all the fight went out of him as his despair gained the upper hand in his morbid thoughts. His re-discovered courage and conviction beat a rapid retreat in the face of cold reality. He couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t. He didn’t _want_ to. Did he?

But then his mind obligingly conjured up another image of Jim. The Jim who had smiled at him just a short while ago, telling him that he had got Blair’s back.   And instantly he castigated himself for his selfish cowardice and pitiful lack of self-belief. Jim believed he could do it, so who was Blair to gainsay him?

And with that comforting thought, he straightened up in his chair, facing up to Colonel Collins and Willard Morrison with more Sandburgian spirit than had been in evidence for many weeks past.

He would do this, and he would make it work, for him and for Jim. He just had to keep telling himself that....

\------------------------

**Part 3: An Odd Couple – early days:**

As Blair made his way back to Jim’s bedside, he was once more beset by nerves, his on-again, off-again self-confidence abandoning him the moment he raised his hand to knock on the door. He paused for long moment, aware that Sam, his guard was no doubt regarding him with concern or perhaps even irritation, but needing a little time to get himself back under control. He was acutely aware - and ashamed - of his chronic lack of self-esteem, which no doubt had its roots in his unstable, itinerant childhood. However, under normal circumstances he had almost always been able to disguise it successfully under the cover of his exuberant personality, consummate acting ability and fast-talking, so much so that even he was able for the most part to ignore it. Over the past few weeks, however, circumstances had been anything but normal, and he cursed himself for the way he had allowed his weakness to be used against him.

But no more. Not if he could help it. He had the promise of backup now, and he would do his damnedest to reciprocate.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he released it slowly and raised his hand again, this time knocking with reasonable confidence, entering immediately at Jim’s invitation.

\----------------------------

As for Jim, he had tracked Blair all the way from his room to the Colonel’s office, needing to reassure himself that the young man was OK and incidentally marvelling at how effortless the action was. Despite his sense of loss when Blair had left the room, Jim was actually feeling far better than he could ever have believed. The residual effects of Blair’s presence were still bolstering his sense-control, and he was able to dial down and hold his pain level with ease. Indeed, he could never recall it being this easy, and it was a vast improvement on the sort of pain relief offered by the chemical suppressants. Not only that, but he could hear every word of Blair’s conversation, assuaging his guilt at eavesdropping by telling himself it was for Blair’s benefit. And the lack of white noise generators implied that he was expected to listen in.

Although uncomfortable at being the topic of discussion, he was humbled by the young man’s assessment of his capability, and his vehement words on the subjects of both recognising and nurturing Jim’s contribution to the unit and also to ensuring his personal safety.

And that had led inevitably to the question of Blair’s potential as a guide.

Jim had heard when distress and insecurity crept into Blair’s tone, and guilt for being responsible for it hit Jim hard. But almost immediately afterwards he had recognised the moment when Sandburg had regained his courage and accepted his responsibility. And at that moment, Jim was sure that he already loved the little guy. He sure as hell respected him, and now he just had to show him how important he already was.

Jim finally had a guide to care for him, and to be cherished in return.

\------------------------

“Come on in, Chief,” Jim called out, a warm smile of welcome already lighting his face as Blair peered around the door. Blair was also smiling as he entered quickly, but Jim’s senses told him that it wasn’t completely unaffected, and there was a residual hint of distress in the smaller man’s scent. However, he was obviously trying hard to put his most recent crisis of confidence aside in order to concentrate on Jim, so the sentinel wasn’t about to call him on it and risk making him self-conscious.

“Hey, Jim. How’re you feeling now? Are your senses still under control?”

“Yep, so far so good, Junior, no doubt due to you and your beneficial effects. Dr Madison ought to bottle you. He’d make a fortune!”

Blair blushed in shy pleasure as he approached the bed. “Only if he wants effective sleeping pills, man. You should ask the students dozing off at the back of my lecture theatre!”

“Don’t believe that for an instant, Chief. You’re way too entertaining. But anyway,” Jim hurried on, suddenly wanting to divert the subject away from a familiar topic that had the potential to distress his new friend unnecessarily. “How did your meeting go with Colonel Collins and the shrink? Did they upset you again?”

“No more than usual, Jim,” Blair replied, his generous mouth twisting with a wry grimace. “Actually, I’m guessing that you heard every word, am I right? It’s OK,” he added quickly when Jim coloured a little, looking a bit guilty. “I don’t mind. Actually, it’s kinda nice having someone listening out for me, and it also confirms that your range of hearing is every bit as good as I thought it was,” and he bounced a little in a tiny reappearance of his old enthusiasm which gladdened Jim’s heart to behold.

“Well, yeah, I did listen,” Jim admitted. “I was concerned that those two might be giving you a hard time, and to be honest, I didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“Having said that, I know it wasn’t easy for you, Chief, but I’m happier and more proud of you than I can say. Because you as good as told them you’ll be my guide Chief. I didn’t misunderstand, did I?” and Blair was dismayed to pick up a sudden hint of insecurity in the sentinel’s tone at these last words.

“No! No, Jim. You heard it right. If you want me, and as long as you’re prepared to put up with me when I fuck up – and it goes without saying that I shall do – then I’ve decided. I want to be your guide, Jim.”

“That’s all I could ask for, Chief – Blair. Come and give me a kiss, want to?”

“Oh yeah, I’m down with that,” and Blair smiled, properly this time, and leaned in eagerly to do just that.

\--------------------------------

Jim was released from the medical unit later that afternoon, having satisfied Drs Madison and Morrison that he was both physically and mentally in pretty good shape. The bullet wound in his shoulder would require a fair amount of physical therapy, however, once the stitches were out and the soft tissue healed enough to stand it. In the meantime, with Colonel Collins’ blessing, Jim requested that he and Blair have time together testing and building on their working partnership, during which Jim would give his new guide some more basic training, and introduce him to Jim’s team.

And of course, they both wanted to progress their personal relationship also, which necessitated Blair moving into Jim’s quarters.

Since Colonel Collins had been certain that he could persuade – or brow-beat if necessary – Dr Sandburg into accepting his role as Ellison’s guide, he had actually had Blair’s few possessions packed up and moved to Ellison’s bigger unit during that first day, and Blair wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Certainly he was glad it was a done deal insofar as he wanted to be with Jim, and had wondered whether virtually co-habiting with his sentinel would be permitted so soon, but on the other hand it was more than a little upsetting that TPTB, or at least, Collins and Dr Morrison, had determined that he be offered up anyway, rather like a sacrificial virgin.

When he and Jim had arrived at Jim’s quarters and Blair had seen his things already placed in the room, he hadn’t known whether to smile or scream. Watching the differing expressions chasing across his new guide’s mobile features, and hearing the accelerated heart beat as well as picking up the slightly sour tang of distress in the young man’s scent, Jim had pulled the smaller man into a one-armed hug.

“You OK, Chief? Is this going to be too much, too soon for you to deal with? Because I gotta say I want you here, but I can tell something’s not right with you. What’s wrong, babe?”

Blair turned his face up to meet Jim’s concerned gaze, and forced himself to relax as he offered a wry smile.

“I’m sorry, Jim. In answer to your question, no, it’s not too soon. I do want to be here with you, truly. It’s just the way it was done, you know? Like I was never going to be offered a choice.

“It certainly underlines my place in the military hierarchy, doesn’t it?” and he chuckled ruefully.

“I hear you, babe. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re taking it so well. The army isn’t known for its sympathy and understanding where operatives are concerned, even ‘Primary’ ones. But we have each others’ backs now, Chief. And that’s what counts.”

And of course, Blair had to concur.

\--------------

A short while later both men sat side by side on Jim’s sofa, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. They had spent the past hour or so getting Blair’s few possessions stowed away, and Blair had had his first taste of sentinel anal-retentive fastidiousness as Jim painstakingly re-folded and re-packed Blair’s slap-dash efforts despite his impaired mobility. He hadn’t scolded his new room-mate, but Blair felt somewhat ashamed and also a little resentful although he told himself sternly to suck it up and live with it. It wasn’t as if he was unaware of the phenomenon. He just hadn’t ever had it applied to his own life-style.

Aware of his companion’s brooding silence, Jim had simply offered him a wry grin.

“Sorry, Sandburg. But when it comes to sharing quarters, as the sentinel and senior officer, we do it my way. Which also happens to be the army way, so you’ll have to get used to it.

“Anyway, since I didn’t get to enjoy the medical unit’s idea of an evening meal, shall we send out for something to eat? You need to get a bit more meat on your bones, Chief, and you’re going to need the calories once we recommence training. OK with you?”

Offering a rueful smile in return, Blair couldn’t hold on to his resentment in view of Jim’s good-natured concern for him.

“OK, Jim. I guess I could eat. But nothing really heavy, please. I’m not vegetarian like my Mom was, but I’ve always been careful to limit my red meat and junk food intake. And I guess I haven’t had much of an appetite anyway since I got myself ‘enlisted’.”

Patting his shoulder approvingly, Jim put a call through to the mess hall and placed his order. When he had finished, he grinned complacently at his new guide.

“Something to be said for being a senior Sentinel Unit ‘special operative’. I do get priority treatment under certain circumstances, so I make the most of them.

“The food should be here fairly soon, so do you want to take a quick shower before we eat?”

Blair perked up at that, and offered his first spontaneous grin.

“Yeah, thanks Jim. That’d be good. I always feel better after a shower,” and he went into the adjoining bathroom to take advantage of Jim’s superior shower and toilet facilities.

By the time Blair had finished and changed into clean sweatpants and tee, the food had arrived, and he was pleased to see that Jim’s order of warm chicken salad for Blair was far better than he had expected. Or perhaps he was simply more inclined to eat. Whichever it was, he tucked in, unaware of Jim’s sidelong approving glances as the sentinel demolished his own steak dinner.

\------------------

A short while later, both men had satisfied their hunger, and sat back feeling comfortably replete. Blair gathered together the dirty dishes and silverware, and at Jim’s instruction, put the tray outside the door for collection. As he looked around him, this time actually taking in his surroundings, he realised that his ever-present guard was no longer there, and, indeed, hadn’t accompanied him when he had left the medical unit in Jim’s company.

He frowned a little as he mulled over the change in circumstances, deciding that apparently Colonel Collins believed he was safe enough under Jim’s protection, and no longer in need of his taciturn babysitters.

He was surprised to feel slightly disappointed, as, much as he had resented being constantly trailed and observed by his guards, he had formed a sort of relationship with Sam, his most regular companion. True, it could hardly be called real friendship, but the big soldier had seemed to accept his duty with surprising equanimity, and tolerated Blair with commendable patience. Blair knew his presence must have been an annoyance, but Sam had become very protective of him, and Blair was well aware that the odd relationship had prevented him from descending into total depression. He was, by nature, a ‘people’ person, and was lost when denied regular interaction with his habitual large circle of students, friends and acquaintances, their very differences a source of constant stimulation for his fertile brain.

Shrugging, he put the thought aside, and turned his attention instead to the more weighty concern of how he was going to settle into a much more committed relationship with Jim, his intended sentinel-to-be.

As he stepped back inside the room and closed the door behind him, he chewed his lip for a moment before asking rather diffidently, “Um, Jim? Are these quarters audiobugged? I mean, I never thought about it before, but I’d like to know. I mean, I know I was monitored constantly in my quarters, and I assume they were listening in too, not that there was much to hear except expletives when I was pissed off – which was a lot of the time. I guess they probably thought I was a potential suicide risk or something, and sometimes that was a pretty tempting proposition. Either that or they thought I’d be trying to do a runner the second I had the chance.

“It’s just that, I guess I can live with the camera, but I really don’t want them listening in to our every word.”

Jim had frowned at Blair’s words, not liking the implication that his new companion might have entertained suicidal thoughts, and finding his protective instincts kicking up into high gear once more. Patting the sofa beside him, he beckoned the smaller man over to join him, determined to try and both put Sandburg at ease, and learn a bit more about him at the same time.

In truth, Jim was beginning to flag, the aftereffects of his injuries catching up on him and warning him that he needed some serious down–time, but this was more important. It was plain that Sandburg needed reassurance and comfort, even if he was too shy to come out and ask for it directly.

“OK, Chief, in answer to your question, no, my quarters aren’t audiobugged. I’d be able to hear the tell-tale background electrical hum if they were, and my superiors know it. Yes, they are under camera surveillance, but that’s SOP in this unit and others similar, simply from a security point of view. I’m afraid it’s something you’ll just have to learn to live with, like the rest of us. But we can work around it, Blair. It doesn’t have to be an insurmountable hurdle, I promise.

“Now, I’m going to suggest we have a reasonably early night, Chief, because I think we’re both running on fumes, but before that, I’d appreciate it if you could give me a quick run-down on the training you’ve had so far. After all, we’re both going to have to concentrate on some serious work if we’re to get fit enough to go on active duty as a viable team. I’m guessing from the bruises on your arms that you’ve had a few lessons in un-armed combat and self-defence?”

In actual fact, Jim had noticed several fading but still ugly dark patches as soon as Blair had emerged from the shower, revealed by the short-sleeved tee, and hadn’t liked what he had seen. However, he hadn’t wanted to call the smaller man’s attention to them just then, preferring to let him settle in, eat and relax a little first. But now the opportunity had arisen to do a little more sleuthing, and Jim wanted to know just what his guide had been put through.

Although uncomfortable with the question, Blair knew that Jim had a right to know who and what he would be working with, so determined to keep his account concise and factual. It was bad enough recognising his own shortcomings and pathetic performance without belittling himself any further in Jim’s eyes, so he took a deep breath and began.

Staring fixedly at the floor between his feet, he quickly ran through his experiences thus far, deliberately unemotional and unaware that Jim was watching him intently with growing anger and concern.

Now Jim would never admit to being ‘Mr Sensitivity’ by any means, but he was an honourable man and a conscientious officer, and an intelligent one also. Through a combination of reading between the lines and careful monitoring of his companion’s body language and physiological reactions, it was clear that Blair had suffered unnecessarily during the few weeks of his enlistment, and Jim wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know the real reasons why.

It appeared to Jim that his guide had been subjected to a form of basic training deliberately designed as a means of acclimatising an unwilling and already traumatised recruit to the rigidity of the military mind-set, aiming to stamp out any signs of resistance on the way. It was as well that in Blair’s case it seemed to have failed to completely subdue the young man, and there was definitely evidence of the strong individual beneath the anxious exterior, but much damage had been done, and Jim wondered if Colonel Collins was aware of that fact.

If he had but known it, Collins had indeed been concerned about Sandburg’s induction training, having intended to use his ‘carrot’ rather than ‘stick’ approach. However, he had been overridden by the General, who didn’t see the need to pamper the professor unnecessarily until a particular incident had changed his superior officer’s mind.

During self-defence sessions, Blair had come up against progressively more aggressive opponents in a number of other recruits who resented what they perceived as his apparent special treatment despite his intractable attitude, such that Blair soon became more or less one big bruise. When he had actually been knocked cold in a particularly violent incident, General Marshall had been forced to curtail such training sessions to avoid irreparable damage to a potentially precious resource. Blair had thereafter been assigned a permanent ‘bodyguard’, and had been ordered to turn his attention to familiarising himself with the practices in the medical unit, in readiness for his introduction to Jim. All further training was expected to fall under Jim’s supervision; an assumption that would bother Jim not one iota.

Gently reaching out with his good hand to cup Blair’s chin in order to turn the introspective younger man to face him, Jim murmured softly, “So, Chief. Apart from one or two trips to the range and some fairly traumatic un-armed combat sessions, did you ever interact with the other recruits here? Did you eat in the mess, or were you kept in isolation?”

Blair blushed, apparently assuming that Jim’s question implied some sort of rebuke.

“Um, yeah. I was. I’m sorry, man. I was just, you know, so angry! And so scared. The only thing I could think of was passive resistance, man. The sort Naomi and I and our fellow protestors used to employ when facing hard-nosed opposition or an unacceptable cause. I think my handlers thought I might try to undermine morale or something, but I swear that wasn’t why I was so difficult. It was only on my own behalf, man. I honestly didn’t want to influence recruits who believed in their choice of profession. Right to choose and all that, you know? As long as it doesn’t lead to evil, like genocide masquerading as justice or acceptable practice, and such-like.

“Anyway, I was kept in isolation, under strict guard, and accompanied everywhere, and I guess that won’t have won me any popularity points huh? It was only when I was assigned to the medical unit that I had any real interaction with anyone, and then you arrived.

“And I guess that was the whole plan, wasn’t it? You, me, sentinel, guide,” and he turned his face away again, not wanting Jim to think that his re-awakened resentment was directed at him personally.

Jim sat back and studied the smaller man thoughtfully for a few minutes before responding.

“OK, Chief. Enough angst for tonight. I’m sorry you were treated the way you were, Blair. God knows you didn’t deserve it, and I’m truly sorry I was the unwitting cause for it. It’s just that the other recruits to this unit are already trained and committed military types, so they’re going to view an outspoken and insubordinate outsider like you as a potential threat.

“But I swear to you that I’ll try to support and help you as much as I can for both our sakes, and also help you integrate into the unit.

“But now, I know _I’m_ just about done in, so, shall we go to bed? Don’t worry,” he added quickly when Blair’s heart immediately sped up in anxiety.

“For tonight, I just want to hold you, Blair. I’m not up to anything acrobatic, and I think you need a little time to get used to the sleeping arrangements, am I right? So, let’s get comfortable, and try and get some sleep.”

Blair beamed at him, grateful for Jim’s consideration, and glad that Jim didn’t seem to be inclined to be overly judgemental over Blair’s revelations thus far.

“Thanks, Jim. I really appreciate your understanding, man, and I swear I’ll try to get with the programme for your sake if not for my own. Right now, sleep sounds really great. I can’t remember when I last had a good night’s sleep…” and he stood up to visit the bathroom, intending to take care of business and freshen up, unaware of the sympathetic and troubled gaze following his every move.

\----------

A short while later, Blair was on the point of drifting off to sleep, drowsily mulling over a few more stray thoughts as he settled snugly in Jim’s bed. He was cuddled close into the bigger man’s side, his head resting comfortably on Jim’s uninjured shoulder, and he realised that it had been a long time, if ever, that he had felt so secure and relaxed. Jim had fallen asleep almost immediately, although Blair knew that the sentinel would waken immediately at the first sign of trouble, and Blair intended to follow suit as soon as he could.

He had been unsurprisingly shy and awkward when first climbing into bed, concerned that he might inadvertently stray over to Jim’s side seeking warmth during the night. However, Jim had automatically encouraged him to make himself comfortable in Jim’s arms, so he had accepted the invitation with pleasure.

He already accepted that they would bond properly once Jim was fit enough, and admitted to himself that he had some reservations, but mostly on account of his own inexperience in male / male sex. True, he had had several male dates, but had never gone beyond first base, not trusting them enough to allow them to penetrate him. He tended to date women more, simply because he liked them, and felt safer in their company.

However, he instinctively knew that Jim meant him no harm, and would, indeed, be as careful as a sentinel lover could be, so safety wasn’t the issue. Instead, Blair’s main worries were on the grounds that Jim might be disappointed in him as a lover and guide, but only time would tell.

Firmly telling himself that such revelations could wait for tonight at least, he closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing completely, and fell asleep almost between one breath and the next.

\----------------

**Following morning, Jim’s quarters:**

Waking automatically at 0’dark thirty as was his wont, Jim was immediately aware of discomfort from the low-grade headache behind his eyes due to the blow to his head, and a stiffness in his injured shoulder, which also itched like the very devil from the already-healing tissues. However, mere seconds later, the painful symptoms receded as if by magic as he registered the enticing scent emanating from the warm bundle of still-sleeping guide snuggled up against him. The solid presence of Blair’s body grounded the sentinel so that dialling down the pain level came easily, and Jim sighed in relief.

Grinning softly, he took a few moments to indulge in studying Sandburg, who had made himself comfortable laying almost half over Jim’s larger body, with his face tucked into Jim’s neck. He snuffled delightfully in his sleep, and Jim surprised himself with his newly-discovered tolerance as stray curls tickled his nose. Whoever would have thought that Captain Jim ‘Hard-ass’ Ellison would allow a male bed partner to use him as a body pillow? Yet it felt so right, and Jim tightened the hold of his good arm slightly to pull the smaller man even closer. Despite his various hurts, he was determined to make love to his guide today, and cement their bond in the fullest way.

Over the next few minutes, Jim registered the signs of the body in his arms returning to wakefulness, and he chuckled as Blair finally raised his head to regard Jim with sleep-hazy blue eyes. His short curls were stuck out every which way in the worst case of bed hair Jim had ever witnessed, and his cheeks were darkened by morning beard stubble. And yet the picture was entirely charming, and Jim’s grin widened further as Blair peered somewhat myopically up at him.

“Hey, Jim. I’m sorry, man. Did I sleep on top of you all night? Gods, you must be stiff…” and he made to slide off his partner’s buff chest. However, Jim tightened his arm again to prevent the movement, saying, “It’s fine, Chief. I’m comfortable enough, and if using me as a human teddy bear helps you relax and sleep better, feel free. It’s not like I’m exactly pushing you away, is it?”

Settling back down again, Blair replied, “Thanks, man. Gotta say that’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had since I got here, and probably for a long time before that. But I guess we should be thinking about getting up, huh? It must be nearly time for reveille.”

“S’OK, Chief. We’ve got a few days’ recuperation due, so we can take it a bit easier. And there’s something else I’d rather be doing,” and Blair swallowed audibly as he became aware of the evidence of Jim’s arousal pressing against his thigh.

Blushing as he felt his own cock start to sit up and take notice, he snickered a little nervously as he responded to the overt invitation.

“Um, Jim, man, much as I’d love for you to do whatever you intend to do, can I visit the bathroom first? I mean, I’m not trying to run out on you, honest, but when I gotta go, I gotta go, if you know what I mean. And I think I’d like to freshen up a bit first…” and his blush deepened significantly as he knew Jim understood his reasoning.

“Sure, Chief, but hurry up. I want you, Blair. And I don’t want to wait any longer to make you mine.”

Stirred by the naked possessiveness in Jim’s expression, Blair nodded quickly, his own desire rising to meet the challenge, and he fairly sprinted to the bathroom to take care of business before showering meticulously and shaving in what was probably the fastest time he had ever managed.

Rather than cooling his ardour, the hot water and luxurious sensuality of bathing with Jim’s own shower gel and shampoo had stimulated Blair to the extent that he almost dived back into the still-warm bed, to be pulled tightly against Jim’s side once again.

Nevertheless, he was suddenly struck once again by nervousness, and also worry that Jim might be at risk of hurting himself.

Realising immediately that his soon-to-be lover was demonstrating all the signs of renewed anxiety, Jim controlled himself with an effort, and pulled Blair up to face him.

“OK, Chief, I can tell you’re getting yourself all in a twist about something. Now let me assure you, I’m _not_ going to hurt myself! I’m a tough old bird, but I also know my limitations. And I’m pretty damned good at improvisation also, so stop worrying about me.

“What else is troubling you? Come on, Blair, tell me!”

Blair flushed deeply, chewing his lip in an unconscious habitual gesture as he shyly met Jim’s ardent but quizzical gaze.

“Um, well, this is _so_ embarrassing!” he muttered, almost _sotto voce._

“Um, you know I said I had nothing against male / male sex? Well, that’s true. Really. But, um… _I’venevergonethewholeway_ ….” and he looked away, unable to keep up eye contact with Jim, who he was sure must be utterly infuriated with him and his pathetic procrastination.

“Say again, Chief? I didn’t quite catch that,” replied Jim, face creased in consternation.

“Oh, shit!” Blair looked up again, almost challengingly. “I said, I’ve never gone the whole way. I’m a virgin, man, to male sex anyway. I’m sorry! Jeez! This is so embarrassing…” and he tailed off in red-faced shame.

To be pulled up again to face Jim’s understanding and almost reverent gaze.

“Don’t be ashamed, Blair,” he whispered. “This is a gift I never expected to receive. Ever. I shall be honoured to take your virginity, Blair, and I only hope I can make it truly good for you. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, my Guide.   Come on, let me love you…”

And Blair did.

Because of Jim’s somewhat limited mobility, Blair found himself having to move constantly to position himself exactly where his sentinel wanted in order to be thoroughly mapped and explored, imprinted and prepared for penetration. He had never before taken such a physically active yet obedient and almost subservient role before, and found the experience amazingly erotic and liberating. He felt bashful yet incredibly aroused; empowered yet tenderly controlled; and when he finally rode Jim to a magnificent mutual climax, the initial pain was instantly forgotten in the wonder of a blinding flash of enlightenment as the bond was set and they became as one.

In the lazy aftermath, Jim looked down fondly at the curly head resting once again on his chest. His guide was out for the count; sated and well-loved and more dear to Jim than he could ever have imagined. He himself was a little stiff and sore, but also more relaxed and content than he would have thought possible as he followed Blair into sleep.

_My Guide. Who’d have thought?_

**Part 4: Team Building:**

Later that morning, Jim rose reluctantly to wakefulness again, driven by the urgent need to empty his over-full and protesting bladder. Grimacing ruefully, he slid out from under the warm weight of Blair-blanket, who merely grumbled incoherently and continued to sleep, curling his arm around a pillow in lieu of Jim. Grinning fondly, Jim hurried to the bathroom to take care of business, eyeing the shower with longing before deciding that he would wait until Blair could help him wrap his shoulder dressing with plastic film to protect it and the stitches beneath.

He returned to the small but well-equipped kitchen and put on a fresh pot of coffee, guessing that the enticing aroma would encourage his guide to emerge from the Land of Nod. Pottering around getting mugs, plates and silverware out for a late breakfast while the coffee brewed, he planned the rest of the day, knowing that he needed to introduce Blair to his team.

Which may well prove to be a little awkward.

\----------------------

Within the specialised Sentinel and Guide Unit, operatives worked in teams of four to six members, with at least one bonded sentinel and guide pair. As a rule, the sentinel, or occasionally the guide, would be the ranking officer, and the other team members were highly-trained personnel with proven capabilities, who were accustomed to working with sentinels and guides in the field. As Colonel Collins had informed Blair with no little satisfaction, his unit comprised the best of the best in terms of both sentinel and guide pairs, and also their supporting team members, and accordingly were treated with appropriate respect.

Since teams were occasionally required to work together in some bigger operations, it was important that they be able to incorporate into a slick and efficient force, so the sentinel pairings had to accept that they had to cooperate, even though it was in a sentinel’s nature to protect his own territory and tribe.

Under such circumstances, the sentinel teams had to establish some sort of pecking order, which may or may not represent actual official ranking, but generally speaking they came to an understanding wherein primal instincts were sublimated by the necessity of achieving their mutual goals. Outright antagonism between rival sentinels was very rare, and usually only occurred when one of the protagonists was either spiritually damaged in some way or predisposed to violence.

The odd man – or sentinel – out had been Jim, who was both unbonded and yet the strongest and highest-ranked alpha in the whole unit.  He was openly acknowledged as having had a remarkable success rate so far, only occasionally needing to make use of a temporary guide until this last operation when the usual routine had failed spectacularly to work. However, his newly-acquired bonded guide was likely to cause more than a few problems with team morale. Not only Jim did no longer require the guide who was presently assigned to his team, but Blair himself was a potential source of resentment.

Jim knew that Private Micky Angelo had harboured notions of becoming Jim’s true guide given time, even though Jim had made a point of explaining that it wasn’t going to happen. And he was popular with the other four team members also. It wasn’t going to be pleasant informing the man that he was to be reassigned, and replaced by an untrained and unconventional academic.

Sighing in exasperation, Jim fixed a mug of fresh-brewed coffee and returned to the bedroom to rouse his guide, knowing that they couldn’t put off reality any longer.

Putting the mug of coffee down on the nightstand, Jim grasped the bedcovers and yanked them down, ignoring the squawk of protest from his semi-comatose guide.

“Come on, Sandburg! Up and at ’em!” he said loudly, a smug grin plastering his face as Blair sat up and glared at him, naked, rumpled and incredibly cute.

“Jeez, man! Is that your idea of a wake-up call? Gimme that coffee!” and Blair seized the proffered cup and almost inhaled the fragrant contents. A few seconds later, he sighed in satisfaction, and cracked open one eye to regard Jim suspiciously. However, he couldn’t maintain his aggravation in the face of his partner’s smile, so he returned the grin and held out the mug.

“Get me a refill and you can have your wicked way with me again,” he snickered, waggling his eyebrows as Jim laughed out loud in unaffected pleasure. Jim couldn’t remember when he had last indulged in such uncomplicated fun with a companion, and he was enjoying himself immensely, his mirth inspired by the comical expressions chasing across Blair’s mobile features.

Soon, however, he was forced to sober up, knowing he couldn’t put off real life any longer.

“Sorry, Chief, no can do, much as I’d like to take you up on your offer. For one, you’ll be too sore to repeat that performance so soon, which you’ll realise as soon as you try to move. Also, we need to get something to eat, and I need you to help me shower because we have things to do. Just because we – that is, _I_ \- can’t to any physical training just yet, you have to meet the team, Chief. And that might as well be sooner rather than later.

“So, up you get…” and he held out his good hand to help haul his guide out of bed.

With a sigh, Blair accepted the offered hand, and allowed Jim to help him to his feet.

“Oooh, ouch! See what you mean, man,” he groaned as tender tissues complained as did muscles he hadn’t realised he had.

“Hey, it’s OK though,” he hastened to reassure Jim, who was looking concerned. “It’s a good kind of ‘ouch’, truly.” And the sentinel knew he was telling the truth, so his face softened again into fond contemplation, resigned to the fact that his guide was going to make dramatic changes to his orderly life, and realising that perhaps it was no bad thing.

\------------------------

It was nearing mid-day when Jim and Blair were finally dressing in preparation for meeting up with Jim’s team. They had indulged in a shared shower in the admittedly somewhat cramped bathroom as Blair had insisted on helping Jim wash since he needed to keep his dressing dry – not that they needed an excuse anyway – then enjoyed a simple but filling brunch of cereal, eggs and toast. Blair had pulled on his clean BDUs, which were minus any insignia on account of his so-called ‘civilian’ status, and was struggling with his new-looking boots.

“Ouch, ouch and dammit!” he muttered as he pushed his feet into the unforgiving objects.

“You OK, Chief?” asked Jim, a concerned expression on his face. “Those are regulation boots, I know, but not the type this unit usually uses. How come you have them?”

“How should I know, man? When I first arrived here, nothing seemed to fit, and the Colonel had to requisition smaller stuff for me. They did let me use my own hiking boots, though,” he added wistfully. “Until they could get hold of some small boots, that is. Just wish they hadn’t bothered…” and he tugged at the offending object into which he was trying to force his left foot.

“Not good enough, Chief!” retorted Jim, the light of battle in his eye. “If the rest of us get decent combat boots, then so should you! Leave it with me, OK?

“Meanwhile, let me get some thicker socks for you. They’ll protect your feet a bit more until you get better footwear.”

“Thanks, Jim. I know I have to do a lot of fitness training, and I really don’t think I could manage too well with these. I’m going to be slow enough as it is, without the blisters from hell,” and Blair grinned gratefully up at his sentinel, basking in the warm glow that the man’s obvious concern for him elicited. Of course he realised that it was in the sentinel’s best interest to make sure his guide was fit for duty, but Blair could sense Jim’s real interest in him as a person, and the unaccustomed solicitude was certainly comforting.

Just then, however, Jim stiffened and looked towards the door, some seconds before a brisk knock announced the arrival of Colonel Collins and Dr Willard Morrison.

Bristling in barely-concealed annoyance, Jim sprang to attention as the men entered, but not before positioning himself between them and his guide. Blair also stood up, but unashamedly made use of Jim’s broad back as a barrier, peeking around just enough to observe the interaction.

However, Collins seemed completely unconcerned at his senior sentinel’s alert, protective and rather aggressive stance. Indeed, it was just what he and the unit’s psychiatrist had expected, so he was smugly satisfied to see that their plans appeared to be falling into place most successfully.

“At ease, Captain Ellison,” he said with a tight smile. “We are here to offer you both our congratulations, and to give you some good news.

“Guide Sandburg,” he continued, meeting Blair’s worried and inquisitive gaze. “You have exceeded our expectations, and we are glad to welcome you into the unit as a fully bonded and working guide. I did have my doubts at first that you would actually follow through with the bonding, but I am happy to have been proved wrong. And I’m sure that your sentinel is equally happy?”

Blair couldn’t help himself. Despite Jim’s threatening growl, which he recognised was aimed at the visitors and not at him, he had to ask.

“H h how did you know? I mean, we turned the lights out, and I thought you weren’t listening! Jeez, do you people record everything? Aren’t we allowed any privacy at all?”

As Jim’s growl deepened, Collins held up his hand in a calming gesture.

“I’m sorry you are upset, Guide Sandburg, but in this instance, yes, we did listen in. And not with an audiobug either,” he added, meeting Jim’s frowning gaze.

“I knew you would instantly hear the feedback, Captain, so I commissioned another sentinel to listen in and report back.

“Now, don’t worry. I shall not name the individual I ordered to listen in, and I have complete faith in that person’s integrity, as should you both. It was merely necessary confirmation that all was as it should be.”

Here he broke off for a moment, aware, as was Morrison, that the newly-bonded sentinel was in a highly volatile state, and not wishing to fall foul of the man’s primal instincts. Nevertheless, he was gratified to see Sandburg reach out and grip Ellison’s arm, lips moving virtually soundlessly, obviously aware of the potential threat, and acting on instinct to calm the man down.

Although his frown remained, Ellison reacted to his guide’s words and relaxed slightly, no longer looking as if he wanted to tear Collins’ head off his shoulders. As Morrison sighed with overt relief, Collins nodded in approval, and Jim had to admire the man’s nerve.

“Thank you, Guide Sandburg. You have proved my point and justified my belief that you are a strong guide. The right guide for Captain Ellison.

“Now, gentlemen. As for my good news, I wish to inform you, Captain Ellison, that you are now promoted to Major, with immediate effect.  Congratulations, Major Ellison,” and he allowed himself a complacent smile.

At Jim’s rather perplexed frown, he explained, “It was a long overdue promotion, Major Ellison. Since you are undoubtedly the senior sentinel in this unit, and also the strongest, it follows that you should hold a rank commensurate with that status. However, General Marshall felt that it would be unfair to your fellow sentinels to promote you whilst still unbonded. Now you are, so I am able to confirm your new rank.

“We’ll leave you both now to carry on with your plans, as you are entitled to a minimum of 48 hours’ bonding leave. I am also prepared to allow another 24 hours if required on account of your injuries, Major. However, once you have introduced your guide to your team, and devised a schedule of intensive training for Dr Sandburg, I shall expect you to report back to me as soon as possible.

“Good day, gentlemen,” and he nodded briskly, returning Jim’s snappy salute before exiting the room, leaving two bemused individuals to ponder his words.

Blair was the first to break the silence, glancing up to peer quizzically into Jim’s frowning face as the sentinel continued to stare at the closed door.

“Um, I’m assuming you had no idea that was coming, huh?” he ventured. “But I thought you were already the highest ranking operative?”

Pulling himself forcibly back to the present, Jim shook himself slightly and turned to look down at Blair’s inquisitive face.

“Well, yeah, I do have seniority, but there are two other captains who are also team leaders, one sentinel and one guide, so I guess the Colonel was just emphasising the point.

“I gotta say it’s a pleasant surprise, Chief, but I hope it won’t cause unnecessary jealousy. We sentinels are a competitive bunch as you well know,” and he grinned a little sheepishly, heartened when Blair chuckled in response and the atmosphere lightened perceptibly.

“OK, then, Guide. Time to meet the team,” and he placed a warm hand in the small of Blair’s back to usher the smaller man out of the door.

\--------------------------

Jim’s quarters were situated in a single story block; one of three identical buildings that formed three sides of a square. An immaculately weeded and maintained gravel path bordered a manicured green square of grass, in the centre of which stood a flag pole, its plot edged with white-painted stones.

Although he had been too distracted to pay much attention when they had arrived at the building yesterday, and he had barely had time to glance around when he had put the meal tray out for collection, Blair now took the opportunity to gaze around in unfeigned interest, his demeanour vastly improved now he had the security of his bonded sentinel by his side.

For his part, Jim was both pleased and relieved to witness this small re-emergence of what he was sure was Sandburg’s pre-conscription energy level, and just hoped that the upcoming team meeting wouldn’t quell him again, although he feared that it was a distinct possibility.

“Um, so, are these all officers’ quarters?” asked Blair, indicating the whole square with a sweep of his arm as they crossed the green, heading for the admin building where Jim’s office was situated.

“Yeah, they are. At least for the unmarried officers, that is,” replied Jim. “The married guys and gals get neat little villas or townhouses depending on the size of their families.”

“And what about the enlisted married personnel? Do they get decent quarters also?” Blair had to ask, his fundamental belief in the principles of equality and fairness still apparent.

Jim offered him a small grin of understanding as he answered, “They’re not bad, Chief, don’t worry. Mostly apartments on base, but way better than barracks.”

Blair looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I haven’t seen much of the base at all. I mean, I was never moved out of the security wing into barracks or civilian quarters. Trouble-maker or flight risk, whatever. Take your pick. I suppose the room was comfortable enough – not like the cell they put me in in the first place I was taken to – but it was still depressing,” and his expression sobered noticeably as he recalled his desperate loneliness.

Jim threw his arm around his guide’s shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, babe, but now you’re under my protection, I’ll make damned sure you never suffer that sort of isolation again.

“OK, here we are,” he added as they reached the admin building. “My office, such as it is, is down the corridor from the main entrance. The team should be assembled there already. You good to go?”

Blair grinned wryly. “I don’t have a choice, do I? But hell, let’s get it over with!” and he opened the main door, resolve plain on his face as he straightened his shoulders.

Walking down the corridor side by side, they both pulled up short as they spotted the nameplate on the door at the same instant. ‘Major J Ellison’ was etched neatly on the new piece of gleaming metal, and Jim and Blair exchanged disconcerted glances as Blair murmured, “Wow. That was quick!” in an almost reverent tone.

His own expression hardening perceptibly, Jim responded grimly, “Yeah. They must have done it first thing this morning. As soon as they were certain that we’d bonded. Wonder what they’d’ve done if you turned me down? Demoted me?” he added with a sardonic grimace.

Lips thinned in irritation as he took a deep, calming breath, Blair muttered, “Well, I didn’t, so let’s make the most of it!” and with commendable spirit he mentally girded up his loins as Jim grinned down at him.

“Attaboy, Chief!” and he pushed open his office door, a supportive hand once again at Blair’s back as he guided the smaller man inside.

The five men waiting within rose to their feet as one at Jim and Blair’s entrance, snapping smartly to attention as Jim returned their salute before crossing the small distance to his desk. Seating himself, he pulled up a chair alongside for Blair before addressing them.

“At ease, gentlemen. Please sit down. I want to introduce you to my newly-bonded and permanent guide, Dr Blair Sandburg. I know he’ll be a great asset to the team, and I expect you to make him welcome.”

While Jim was speaking, Blair had made a quick but thorough study of the men’s expressions as they eyed him up and down, and what he discovered there was more than a little disconcerting. He felt most of the re-discovered confidence he had enjoyed since bonding drain away in the face of their silent threat. Far from welcoming, their expressions mirrored those of the recruits who had made a point of tossing him around during training, and he couldn’t quite prevent the gulp of anxiety and the blush of recognition as he quickly ducked his head to escape their cold glares.

Although he had anticipated a less-than-cordial reception for Blair, Jim was both worried and angry at the exceptionally frigid atmosphere, and knew he had to nip it in the bud immediately if he was to re-establish his command of the situation.

Growling with deep displeasure, he rose slowly to his feet and leaned over his desk, deliberately intimidating his team and emphasising his alpha-male status with his aggressive stance and cold-eyed fury. He met every man’s eyes in turn, holding their gaze resolutely until they dropped their eyes, unwilling to push their leader any further.

Watching the interaction worriedly from the side lines, Blair knew that, despite backing down in this instance, they had made their point, and he was about as welcome as a dose of the clap. Nothing Jim could say or do could force them to change their minds, and he was unhappily aware that only he could do that, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

Meanwhile, however, Jim was also making his point, and hammering it home.

“Listen up, men,” he hissed. “This is how it’s going to be. If you want out of this team, just say the word and it’ll happen. I don’t want anyone here who disrespects my guide, because that also reflects on me, OK?

“And just in case you thought otherwise, transferring off this team under those circumstances means you’re out of the unit, capice? No other sentinel will put up with a subordinate who treats a guide – _any_ guide – in such a manner.

“So, make up your minds, gentlemen. What’s it to be?”

His men exchanged glances, plainly perturbed, but in the end their capitulation was inevitable. They admired and respected their leader, and were proud of their primary team status. None of them relished the idea of being reassigned to general duty with their tail between their legs.

Nevertheless, a tall, blond Slavic man, whose nametag identified him as Lt. Ericsson, had one last question for Jim.

“We understand, sir, and will make every effort to incorporate your guide into the team. But what about Private Angelo, sir? What happens to him now?” and he cast a sidelong sympathetic glance at the young Hispanic man who was staring down at his feet, jaw clenched in distress or anger – or a combination of both.

Softening his tone a fraction, Jim looked over at Angelo, his eyes understanding as he met the young man’s sullen gaze.

“I’m sorry, Private Angelo, but you will be reassigned, albeit within the unit. There is always a need for temporary stand-in guides of proven ability, and you have been of great service to me and this team over the last few months.

“However, the incident in the last operation proves that we are not compatible, and I have had no choice but to bond with someone who is. All that remains is for me to thank you for your input, and let you go.

“Dismissed.”

Plainly upset, Angelo didn’t move immediately, but, after sending an incendiary glare Blair’s way, he pulled himself to his feet, saluting crisply. “Sir, yes sir!” he barked before wheeling about and exiting the room, followed by several pairs of unhappy eyes.

Jim broke the moment of charged silence that followed the young man’s departure, saying crisply, “Right then. Guide Sandburg, meet the team,” and he proceeded to introduce each man to Blair, giving him a brief synopsis of their name, rank and specific capabilities.

He began with the big Lieutenant, Bjorn Ericsson.

“Blair, meet Lt. Bjorn Ericsson, my second in command. Bjorn’s our munitions and explosives expert.”

Blair shook the man’s huge hand, smiling guilelessly up into the stern features.

“Pleased to meet you, Lt. Ericsson. Did your folks come over originally from Sweden? A beautiful country, and they make great cars!” and just like that the ice was broken, and Jim watched in bemusement and no little satisfaction as his small guide wove his own special magic, and used the full extent of his Sandburgian charm to win over his new colleagues.

He was introduced next to Lt. Tom Mulcady, a dark-haired young man of Irish extraction who was the communications specialist. Blair mentioned a youthful visit to the west coast of Ireland, incorporating a trip to Killarney and attending the ‘Rose of Tralee’ festival, and he soon had the other man grinning at his tale of too much Guinness and an abortive attempt to drive a jaunting car.

Next came a tall, very handsome African American, who was the procurement specialist, one of whose talents was being able to hotwire just about anything with wheels. Sergeant Winston Church cheerfully waved off Blair’s automatic but good-natured chuckle of quizzical disbelief.

“Yeah, I know. Mom and Dad really admired Sir Winston Churchill, so what can I say? At least I’m named for a real-life hero, not like ‘Bruce’ there,” and he nudged the fourth member of the team.

Sergeant Chin Lo was a Japanese American martial arts specialist, who liked to call himself Bruce in honour of Bruce Lee. Similar to Blair in weight and build, but a few inches taller, Chin was obviously super-fit and moved with the same smooth grace as Jim. When Blair admitted to knowing nothing about martial arts, but revealed an avid interest in boxing, the foundations were laid for a lively discussion on the practical application of the different disciplines to active duty, which quickly included the whole team.

In truth, had Jim but known it, Blair had had a lifetime’s practice at winning people over, from unwilling temporary ‘step-dads’ to schoolyard bullies, sullen and recalcitrant students to competitive and cynical peers. Stuffy and narrow-minded professors had succumbed to his honeyed words and indubitable intelligence, and there were many potential bed partners, both male and female who would have happily taken him up on his offer should he have chosen to do so.

Over the course of the next few hours, Blair was witty, self-effacing, informative without being overbearing, inquisitive and forthright as the situation demanded. Genuinely interested in everyone in the room, by the end of the meeting, if not exactly eating out of his hand, the other team members were at least willing to give him a sporting chance.

Only a very close friend, or a concerned sentinel, could have known what the effort cost him in stress and anxiety as he carefully disguised personal discomfort and low self-esteem with virtuoso verbal tap-dancing and consummate acting.

\---------------------------

Much later that evening, both men sat side by side on the sofa, half-heartedly watching an action movie. Jim had tucked his guide comfortably against his right side under his un-injured arm, and he could feel Blair growing gradually heavier as his head drooped and he succumbed to his exhaustion. Careful not to disturb his warm armful, Jim looked down at the bent head, his expression fond but speculative as he pondered the younger man’s excessive fatigue. Jim was pretty tired himself, and was well aware that it was mostly due to the after-effects of his injuries, but with Blair’s grounding presence, he was much more comfortable than he would otherwise have been. On the other hand, Blair’s energy seemed to have cut off abruptly as if a switch had been thrown.

After the team meeting had broken up, having made arrangements for them all to assemble at the gym the following morning for routine fitness training, Jim and Blair had returned to the medical unit for Jim’s compulsory check-up. As he had expected, Jim had checked out just fine, his wounds already healing nicely and Dr Madison declared himself to be well pleased with Ellison’s progress.

On the other hand, Blair had been noticeably pale and quiet since leaving Jim’s office, and Jim was concerned at the sudden slump in his guide’s demeanour. He had questioned the young man gently about it, but despite Blair’s instant and positive response, Jim remained troubled, not reassured in the slightest by the other man’s obfuscation and acting ability. He didn’t need sentinel sensitivity or even the bond to tell that all was not yet well in Blair’s world.

Looking up at his taller partner with an apparently open and cheerful grin, Blair had answered, “I’m fine, Jim. Just a bit tired is all. Must have been all the extra physical activity last night, huh?” and he had conjured up an almost convincing salacious leer and throaty chuckle in an attempt to divert Jim’s interest away from his health and behavioural issues.

However, Jim wasn’t fooled for a moment, having already noted Blair’s somewhat erratic heart rate and a faint tang of nervous distress as well as the more obvious tell-tale signs of mental and physical exhaustion.

Despite his concern, Jim decided against pressing the younger man so early into their new relationship, knowing that he would just get either more evasive verbal manoeuvres or an angry retort, so for tonight he would simply let Blair set the pace. But he wasn’t about to let it set a precedent, and determined to get to the bottom of Blair’s inner pain and confusion, because only then would he be able to help. Not for the first time he wished he had known the other, ‘real’ Dr Sandburg, rather than relying for his information on the dry facts supplied by Blair’s official file, and the clues provided by his guide’s present ‘armed forces’ incarnation.

Consequently, taking advantage of their remaining bonding leave, Jim once again ordered dinner in from the mess, not wanting Blair to undergo any more unnecessary stress facing up to a room full of rowdy servicemen. His concern was justified when Blair had accepted the decision without complaint, his drawn features even betraying a brief flash of relief at Jim’s nonchalant suggestion.

Reining in his troubled thoughts, Jim gently nudged the man in his arms.

“Come on, Junior, time for bed. We’re both in danger of falling asleep where we sit, and I for one would prefer to be lying down in comfort. Let’s get you up and ready for bed, huh?”

And Blair had blinked sleepily up at him and complied without demur, falling into the large bed as soon as he had paid the necessary bathroom visit, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Jim lay awake for a few minutes longer, having pulled his sleeping guide snugly into his side.

_Sleep well, kiddo,_ he thought. _You need all the rest you can get. I know you’re running yourself into the ground trying to please me and to fit in somewhere you never wanted to be. But I’ve got you now, and if you let me, I’m going to help. Just see if I don’t…_ and on that thought, he too drifted off into welcome oblivion.

\----------------------------

**Following morning, the gym:**

The next morning saw a dramatic change in Blair’s demeanour, much to Jim’s relief. Whatever decisions the younger man had come to during his long and restful sleep, they were obviously all to the good, and his habitual optimism seemed to be making a welcome reappearance. In truth, wrapped securely in his sentinel’s protective embrace, Blair had wrestled with many of his demons, and had overcome them to a great extent, such that a turning point had been reached, and he had decided it was time to move forward again. Time to make something of the hand that been dealt him, for Jim’s sake, if not for his own.

Waking to find Jim making gentle love to him hadn’t hurt either, and although neither of them was up to the full sexual act again yet, a satisfactory mutual climax had strengthened the bond between them and Jim in particular had been grateful to experience his guide’s positive attitude.

Walking to the gym, Blair almost bounced alongside Jim, eager to start his training under Jim’s supervision despite a faint anxiety that he was likely to be the target of a fair amount of derision until he began to improve. He still had problems with accepting the fact that he might be required to take another human life at some point, but he knew that, if it was to protect his sentinel, he would do it, and live with the repercussions afterwards.

“Will you be doing any working out today, Jim? I mean, I know you still have to rest the arm, but it’s so much better already. Incredibly improved, in fact.

“You know what? It’s a phenomenon I’ve noticed in sentinels before. You guys seem to heal so much faster than us ordinary mortals,” and he grinned cheekily up at Jim, chuckling at the raised eyebrow as Jim regarded him with gentle amusement.

“Seriously, man! It’s as if not only do sentinels have enhanced sensory ability, but they are genetically inclined to be physically healthier also.  Stands to reason when you think about it. A tribal sentinel is such an important and relatively rare commodity, he or she would need to be a prime physical specimen and a healthy one too.”

“That’s as may be, Chief,” Jim replied with a fond grin. “But the guide is just as important, you know. Does that mean you’re equally healthy?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, Jim. But then again, I suppose it’s possible. I admit I never looked into it much. Maybe I was too much in denial back then, huh?”

“Perhaps, Chief. But in answer to your question, I’ll probably do a little work on my legs, but mostly I’ll be helping you. And I think the rest of the team will be only too happy to offer their advice and expertise also. Don’t let them intimidate you, OK? They’re good guys under all that gung-ho exterior.”

“I’ll do my best, Jim, I promise. Just, don’t be surprised if I make an ass of myself to begin with, OK? I really will try to improve quickly.”

“I know you will, Junior. Anyhow, here we are. And the gang’s all here. Let’s get started with some stretching, OK?”

\---------------------------

By the time the team broke for lunch, Blair was exhausted but also elated, for good reason. Jim and the other team members had certainly put him through his paces, from a basic workout to self-defence movements, and even several miles running, albeit on a treadmill rather than the outside track as the morning had grown steadily hotter as the day progressed. Blair knew he wasn’t particularly fit, and had made little or no effort to cooperate since his arrival at the base, but he had set to work with a will, and his team respected his determination if not his present capability.

On the other hand, there had been other teams and individuals also working out in the large training facility, some of whom were openly disdainful of the civilian guide’s initial clumsiness. Blair had also recognised at least a couple of the recruits who had made his life a misery earlier, and appeared to be looking to continue with their torment if at all possible with his sentinel and their superior officer present.

Jim was equally aware of their intentions, and was ready to step in before they even got started, only to find that his team had the same idea. As Jim looked on in approval, his men closed ranks around their guide, who they seemed to have accepted as some sort of mascot. Faced with a solid wall of protective muscle, Blair’s would-be tormentors were forced to back down, and he was subjected to nothing more than a few derisive sneers. The overt acceptance had cheered him no end, so that, by the time the session was over, he was grinning from ear to ear despite his exhaustion.

Showered and changed, Jim and Blair joined the others in the mess for lunch, where the group indulged in good-natured banter, with Blair more than holding his own and entertaining them with tall tales of past anthropology expeditions and childhood travels.

Sitting back and watching the interaction with satisfaction, Jim reflected that the most important step had been taken to forge his team into a real force to be reckoned with once again.

\------------------------

**Part 5: Active Duty.**

**Three weeks later:**

Over the weeks following Blair’s introduction to the team, his progress in various aspects of training was remarkable, mainly because, once committed, it was in his nature to pursue his goals to the very best of his ability. Although smaller in stature to just about all the unit’s personnel, including the few women present, he was quick on his feet and very agile, so during unarmed combat training he nearly always managed to avoid being overpowered and hurt. There was more than simple self-preservation at stake now after all. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t gain a few bumps and bruises on the way, but he soon learned that his fellow team members weren’t, as he had first suspected, taking it easy on him. He knew very well that it would do him no favours in a real combat situation to find that the going was a lot tougher than he was used to.

He was also gradually building up stamina and muscle tone, although he was never going to be as buff as Jim and his colleagues.

On the other hand, the skill that surprised – and worried – him the most was his progress in firearms training. Never one to approve of or use any sort of firearms in the past, he grudgingly accepted that he needed to be at least competent in the maintenance and use of basic weapons simply because the safety of his team mates – and himself – may well depend upon it someday.

Knowing how uncomfortable his guide was, Jim took over that aspect of Blair’s training himself, accompanying him to the range every day and teaching him to strip down, clean and reassemble the type of handguns and rifles with which he was most likely to come into contact.

But when it came to actual target practice, both Jim and Blair himself were amazed at the young guide’s raw talent. As long as he told himself firmly that it was only a paper target and blocked his mind to the thought that one day it might be another human being, Blair achieved remarkable scores almost from the very outset.

His teammates were enthusiastic in their support, and their unrestrained glee at his rapid qualification warmed his heart even as his inner self cringed at his own unexpected aptitude. But as he explained to Jim, lying in his sentinel’s arms at night, he was determined not to let Jim or his colleagues down just because of his over-active sensitivity. If the worst came to the worst, he would do what needed to be done, and trust that his sentinel would be there to help him live with the consequences.

And Jim reassured him that he always would be, and that his guide would never again have to face up to and shoulder such problems and responsibilities alone.

As far as his developing relationship with his team was concerned, Blair was now firmly established as friend, guide and comrade. Although still prone to self-criticism and occasional bouts of anxiety over his own performance, in general the other team members were satisfied with his overall competence. Naturally there were occasions when he felt the rough edge of someone’s tongue when he made mistakes, but he accepted the censure stoically even as he cringed inwardly at his own ineptitude. After all, their very lives might depend on his performance, so it was understandable that they wouldn’t accept anything less than his best effort.

Once over his initial resistance to and distrust of Blair’s inclusion into the team, Bjorn Ericsson had taken Blair under his wing, completely won over by the young man’s sincere efforts to integrate and make himself a useful member of their small but efficient band.  The dour Lieutenant found himself enchanted by Blair’s friendliness and eagerness to share his considerable expertise regarding sentinel and guide pairs, and how best to utilise them, and more often than not actively encouraged Blair to entertain them all with his tall tales and cheerful banter. A huge, blond gentle giant, bigger even than Jim himself, Bjorn towered over the relatively diminutive Sandburg, much to the rest of the team’s fond amusement. But woe betide any outsider who dared to make any adverse comment in their hearing.

Tom Mulcady was the opposite of Ericsson in almost every respect, although the two obviously liked and respected each other enormously. The dark haired Irishman was tall, certainly, but of a much more slender build, although possessed of a whipcord strength and remarkable agility. He was also of a naturally cheerful disposition, and was the joker of the team, and, as such, thoroughly appreciated Blair’s good nature and sharp reciprocating wit. Once the two got together, they could keep the rest of their comrades entertained for hours, a priceless commodity in Jim’s opinion for maintaining morale and cohesion.

Sgt Winston Church was a very different proposition, being relatively quiet and restrained, but his gentle humour and dry comments charmed Blair, who found himself drawn to the other man, sensing a depth of character not many outside of their exclusive group would discern. And as for Winston, he was amazed to learn that Blair was also accomplished in the hot-wiring department, greatly entertained by Blair’s explanation.

“See, man, when I was travelling around a lot with Mom, more often than not, if we could get hold of a car, it was always some old junker. And you’d be surprised how many people lose their car keys, man! Especially my Mom. So one time, when Naomi and I landed up in a commune, sharing with the guy who maintained the farm machinery and the commune’s ancient transport, he taught me how to hot wire everything on the place, ‘cos it was the only way to start the things!  And I’ve always appreciated the skill, let me tell you!”

Of the other four team members, Sgt Chin Lo – or Bruce – was the most enigmatic. Although fiercely loyal and protective of his comrades, he was also inclined to take advantage of any chance to spend time alone, deliberately seeking solitude wherever he could find it. His comrades accepted what they considered to be a somewhat strange proclivity, knowing they could depend on him to have their backs under any given situation, but it was plain that they didn’t understand it.

On the other hand, Blair understood only too well, having been brought up to embrace any opportunity to meditate and centre oneself. He was also well aware that much of what made a skilled martial arts practitioner of Bruce’s calibre depended on self-awareness and the acceptance of one’s place in the universe, and the ability to both control and be controlled by the forces of nature. It might not entail the quasi-serious jargon and antics beloved of the makers of martial arts films – ‘Patience, Grasshopper!’ – but it was real nonetheless, and Blair appreciated the man’s dedication.

And all the while Blair was concentrating on his training; Jim was healing rapidly, even faster than expected. Blair was both pleased yet perplexed; happy that his sentinel was already nearly back to full strength and fitness, but at a loss to explain the phenomenon. But as Jim said one night, after having made love and enjoying the soul-deep comfort of their physical and spiritual bonding, perhaps it was a ‘Blair thing’ also. Unconvinced, but prepared to hear Jim’s argument, Blair had propped himself up on one elbow, studying his lover’s face with rapt attention as he traced patterns on the broad chest with a gentle finger.

“See, Chief, I’ve been thinking about it, and the way I see it is this. As you’ve already postulated, sentinels seem to have the ability to heal faster than normal, probably so they wouldn’t be out of action for too long while their tribe needed them. But even I know this rate of healing is totally unexpected, even compared to other bonded sentinels in the unit. And yes, I did overhear Madison discussing me with Colonel Collins and Willard Morrison, so I’ve got that info from the horse’s mouth.

“So, to my way of thinking, the only difference in my case is that I’ve got an edge. You, Chief. And as far as I’m concerned, that means you have something special. Something the other guides haven’t got.

“Just got to figure out what it is. And whatever it is, I’m not sharing!” And he reached up and pulled his grinning guide down to claim the luscious mouth in a deep and loving kiss.

\----------------------

As the days progressed, Blair found that he was actually beginning to enjoy the new experiences, as long as he shied away from the fact that his new purpose in life would inevitably entail active service – _dangerous_ active service – at some point.   He could almost consider the past few weeks as a sort of unexpected anthropological expedition, except that in this case he was far removed from his usual role as observer, having gone completely ‘native’. Not only had he integrated fully into the team, but he had also found his life-mate and sentinel; something he had never expected to do. He had always assumed that his private life would be ultimately solitary, foot-loose and uncommitted like his Mom had been. But as Jim had pointed out, he _did_ understand commitment, if his life at Rainier was anything to go by. He had dedicated himself to years of study and teaching, and why would he have accepted tenure if he was contemplating moving on?

The other thing that occurred to Blair was that he never experienced any derision on account of his sexual relationship with Jim. The team accepted their partnership unquestioningly, unconcerned with the frequent touches and hugs their captain and his guide indulged in. If any unpleasantness was ever directed at Blair from other teams’ personnel, it was for other reasons such as sarcastic comments regarding his performance, or personal digs at his unconventional appearance and attitude. Although his hair was considerably shorter than it had been, it was still far from a military-style buzz cut, and somehow Blair always managed to make his plain BDUs look casual and ‘civilian’, as his bemused colleagues noted ruefully. As Tom Mulcady said, Blair still looked like an anthropologist in military surplus rather than an active serviceman, and Jim secretly thought that was no bad thing.

When he had mentioned it to Jim, the other man had answered readily enough.

“I know there are still some folks who dislike same-sex partnerships, Chief, both civilian and in some more rigidly traditional branches of the services. And that’s despite the fact that sentinels and guides are generally accepted in society, as they’re taught and encouraged to by people like you, babe. And the law’s on our side too.

“But in this unit, no one can afford to be homophobic, whether or not they’re sentinels or guides. It’s the first thing that disbars potential recruits, for obvious reasons. If anyone is giving you the evil eye, babe, it’s probably because they’re jealous of you. And envious of me for bonding with such a beautiful guide!” and he had grinned down into Blair’s pink-cheeked but pleased face, glad that at least Blair was spared unpleasantness on that front.

Inevitably, however, Blair’s relatively comfortable and stable induction period came to an end, as Jim was passed as fit enough for active service. Although he was expecting it, the reality check shook Blair severely enough that Jim was concerned once again for his guide’s mind-set, carefully monitoring Blair’s physiological and mental reactions.

However, Blair hastened to reassure him, knowing that it wasn’t about him, and Jim didn’t need extra cause for concern on his guide’s behalf.

“I’m OK, Jim, really. It’s just that, I guess I’ve been trying to hide from the real reason I’m here. It was easier for me to concentrate on training and getting to know you if I didn’t think about the end results. But I know I have to accept the fact that I’ll be going out in the field with you soon, and I promise I’ll try not to let you down. Let _any_ of you down.”

And Jim had to be satisfied with that.

\---------------------------------

Shortly afterwards, Jim and Blair were called to Colonel Collins’ office, and they learned of their next operation.

The colonel studied the two men seated before him for long moments, elbows on his desk and his chin resting on his steepled fingers. He was particularly interested in young Dr Sandburg, noting and approving of the changes wrought in the man over the past few weeks. He had watched the pair’s progress with avid interest, more than satisfied to see that their partnership was shaping up to be every bit as effective as he had hoped. Sandburg himself was focussed and alert, far less cowed and anxious than when first ‘acquired’ by the unit, apparently having come to terms with his new role, and dedicating himself to making the most of it. He was noticeably protective of his sentinel, as his sentinel was of him, and Collins couldn’t quite restrain the small, smug smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

As for Major Ellison, the man looked cool, calm and collected, his hand resting possessively on his guide’s forearm, but equally obviously he was watchful and ready to react the instant he perceived any danger to himself or his partner. Collins and Willard Morrison had studied with approval the results of his recent testing, which demonstrated without a doubt that, with the backup of a compatible, bonded guide, his previously impressive sensory range was now bordering on phenomenal.

However, what neither he nor Morrison were aware of was that Jim and Blair had actually decided between themselves to conceal the true range of Jim’s senses. The results already revealed were far better than their superiors expected, and Blair felt that it was no bad thing to have a little ‘edge’ when it came to active service. The results he handed in therefore were quite genuine, but simply not fully comprehensive, and since no one had questioned him on them, he felt no need to come clean.

Satisfied with what he had seen, Collins sat back and offered his men a brief smile.

“Major Ellison, Dr Sandburg. It’s good to see you both looking so well. I have to say that Dr Morrison and I have been most impressed by your progress, and have passed on our opinions and your test results to General Marshall, who, I am happy to say, is delighted.

“I have to say that, although I anticipated a successful outcome, none of us here at the unit would have expected such a remarkable and speedy improvement.

“However, it’s all to the good, since an operation has arisen which requires the attention of our best resources, and that, gentlemen, means you and your team.”

The reaction to his words was to be expected, and he wasn’t surprised when Sandburg paled significantly, automatically reaching over to squeeze Jim’s thigh. As for Ellison, he stiffened slightly before releasing Blair’s forearm and instead wrapping his arm around the guide’s shoulders for a brief and reassuring hug. Nonetheless, he turned swiftly back to his superior officer, all business once again and intent on hearing the man’s news.

Knowing he had both men’s full attention, Collins continued.

“The operation we have in mind, gentlemen, is once again in South America, but this time in Peru. And I think it’ll be of particular interest to you, Dr Sandburg. As with your last operation, Major Ellison, it again involves drug-smuggling and potential funding for terrorist activities here in the US, but is far more wide-reaching. Intelligence leads us to believe that gun-running is also involved, and one of the cartel’s main HQs and undercover storage and distribution depots is situated downstream of the Apurimac River from the base of the Andes where it encroaches on the jungle. To be specific, the smuggling route crosses tribal territory and threatens the indigenous people of the area.   Your team’s job will be to infiltrate the area, neutralise the depot and everything stored there, and cut the smuggling route off at its source.”

As he spoke, Collins had watched Sandburg shrewdly, knowing that the young man’s interest had been instantly captured. He wasn’t surprised then when the shocked-looking guide muttered unconsciously almost under his breath, “Oh man! That’s got to be Chopec territory. Man, that’s bad!” then, realising he had spoken aloud, he blushed deeply and looked apologetically from Jim to the Colonel.

“I’m sorry, sir. But it was just a shock is all. I mean, it was only a couple of years ago when I went on an expedition to that area. Although the Chopec keep themselves to themselves most of the time, we were allowed to meet up with their sentinel and guide, and the experience was well – transcendental, man. For someone like me, anyway. It’s hard for me to think of the tribe under threat from thugs like that, sir! They have enough to deal with from natural and environmental issues and encroaching so-called ‘civilisation’ without adding criminal activity to the list.”

“Apology accepted, Guide Sandburg. And quite understandable under the circumstances.

“But, as you can see, it is a situation where your own expertise will be of enormous benefit to your sentinel and your team. You speak Quechua, do you not? And Spanish also?”

At Blair’s nod of affirmation, he continued, “Good; excellent, in fact. And the fact that you have met some of the tribespeople before should help persuade them that we’re the good guys.

“What are your thoughts, Major?” and Collins turned his enquiring gaze onto Jim.

“It certainly sounds like something my team is well capable of accomplishing, sir. And although I had no prior knowledge of Sandburg’s expedition, I agree that his linguistic ability and knowledge of the Chopec culture will be of great value. When do we go, sir?”

With a slightly self-satisfied smile, Colonel Collins replied, “As soon as possible, Major Ellison. If you will assemble your team here tomorrow at 0800 hours, we will have a full team briefing. Arrangements for transport are already in hand, and I expect you to contact the stores and armoury as soon as possible with the list of equipment and weaponry you and your team requires.

“You have the rest of the day to begin to make your plans, Major Ellison. And to give your team a preliminary outline.

“Dismissed, gentlemen!”

\---------------------------------

**Five days later, Lima, Peru. Jim’s hotel room:**

From his seat on the room’s single grubby armchair, Jim looked around him, a wry grin on his face. Lounging around on the bed, floor or anywhere remotely comfortable, the motley and disparate-looking group of men who actually made up his team waited for him to speak, beard-stubbled faces wearing expressions of varying degrees of interest and animation depending on each man’s individual personality. There was no doubt in Jim’s mind, however, that despite appearances, all his men were committed, alert, and ready for action. They were all dressed in a variety of shabby, casual clothing, but as Blair would say, they still all screamed ‘military’ in their attitude and air of silent menace. However, in this area of Lima, they weren’t necessarily out of place.   This cheap and run-down hotel regularly housed groups of mercenaries and wannabe gangsters, either passing through or looking for employment, ripe for recruitment by cartel scouts who frequented the city’s underbelly looking for suitable greedy, desperate and ultimately disposable scum to swell their numbers.

Jim glanced up at his guide, who was perched on the arm of his chair, leaning casually against his sentinel’s shoulder and gazing around him with interest; the anthropologist and observer in him undoubtedly engaged. Grinning more widely, Jim thought that of all of them, Blair looked the most ‘normal’, dressed in faded jeans, hiking boots and a shabby, short-sleeved shirt over a grubby white tee. In fact, he looked once again like himself – an academic about to commence an expedition. However, knowing why they were all really here, Jim’s grin faded as he was once again assailed by the familiar feeling of guilt. Guilt in that he had basically condemned his gentle guide to a life of potential violence and danger simply by binding Blair to him on the grounds that they shared a genetic compatibility.

A sharp nudge warned him that Blair was well aware of his change of mood, and undoubtedly guessed what had caused it. A brief, sub-vocal scolding ensued and Jim smiled at his frowning guide, a sheepish expression flitting across his handsome face before he turned back to his men, who watched the silent exchange with knowing smirks.

“OK, gentlemen, down to business. I met with Santos this morning as arranged, and he has confirmed that he has our equipment and transport all sorted out.   We leave tomorrow morning at 0600 hours, and make our way to the market square two blocks away. Santos’ll meet us there with his truck. To anyone watching, we’ll just be like any other group of casual labourers being ferried to our temporary workplace.

“However, we’ll be driving out of town to a private airstrip where our plane will be waiting. The pilot is ex-army air corps, and I’ve made use of his services before. He can be trusted, even though he has been known to transport less-than-legitimate cargoes on occasion. Suffice it to say that it’s a regular run, and shouldn’t attract untoward attention as long as we’re unobtrusive.

“His plane’s an old Dakota, ancient but well-maintained, but not designed for comfort,” Jim continued, mostly for Blair’s benefit. “Having said that, the flight shouldn’t take too long, and we’ll be over-flying our target area before landing at another airstrip to the north of the jungle. There Santos has arranged for a local guide to take us by road as far as we can get with motor transport, then it’s a case of hiking in the rest of the way from there.

“From the latest intel I’ve been given, according to the images taken by our spy satellites and the way they’ve been interpreted, our target is still very much in use and the level of activity indicates that there has recently been an increase in numbers and amounts of deliveries as well as personnel.

“We need to shut it down, guys. As soon as possible.”

Nodding in grim-faced agreement, his men responded as expected.

“You betcha, Major!” briskly from a determined-looking Tom Mulcady.

“Consider it done, sir!” Bjorn Ericsson added, stern-faced and resolute as always.

“The sooner the better. Let’s get those bastards,” ‘Bruce’ Chin Lo growled, expression habitually inscrutable, but cold-eyed and deadly nonetheless to his team members’ experienced perception.

It was Winston Church who lightened the mood and relieved the tension in the room. Although no one present doubted his serious intent or his dedication to the mission, he still offered a small smile as he murmured wistfully, “Hey, I’m down with that! And first dibs on a cold beer and hot shower once we’re done, in that order! This ‘ripe’ feeling is getting old already!”

As the room’s other occupants chuckled in response, Jim straightened up, saying, “OK, guys. I’m heading off for an early night, and I suggest you do also.

“See you bright and early in the market square!” And with jaunty waves and friendly ripostes, his men made themselves scarce and returned to their rooms, undoubtedly to prepare for the upcoming mission in their own ways.

As for Jim and Blair, their love-making and bonding that night was both tender and passionate, both needing to reassure and be reassured in their turn of their partner’s love and commitment, as if it were ever in doubt.

And as Jim reached over to turn off the cheap bedside light, he smiled lovingly into Blair’s tired but relaxed and sated face.

“Love you, babe. Don’t ever doubt it!” to which Blair replied, voice already heavy with sleep, “No problem, Big Guy! Love you f’rever…” and he fell asleep almost between one breath and the next.

Satisfied with a job well done, Jim followed his example, comforted and relaxed with the warm bundle of guide in his arms.

\-------------------------------

**Following morning, 0630 hours:**

Punctually at the arranged hour, Jim’s motley crew shuffled their feet, attitudes deliberately careless and expressions morose and introverted as they awaited their transport. With the exception of Jim and Blair, they had made their separate ways to the meeting point in order to avoid arousing suspicion in any casual observers, appearing, as Jim had decreed, like an ordinary group of manual labourers similar to several others already gathering at different points in the market square, also waiting to be picked up by their particular gang bosses and designated transport.

At 0635, a scruffy, ancient truck resembling a stock transporter, with slatted sides and dirty straw on the truck bed floor, pulled up alongside Jim’s group. The moustachioed, middle-aged Hispanic driver leaned across his seat, jerking his thumb peremptorily towards the back of the truck.

“If you wan’ Senor Santos’ place, get in,” he muttered carelessly with a derogatory sniff. “There’s good money to be made if you work hard. Hurry up an’ make your minds up, I ain’t got all day.”

Grumbling amongst themselves for show, but climbing aboard quickly enough anyhow, the team made themselves as comfortable as possible on the straw-covered floor, barely getting seated before the truck took off with a rattle and a roar, taking them on the first leg of their journey into the rainforest and the target that awaited them.

The noise from the truck and the dust kicked up by their progress made talking virtually impossible, so the group settled down stoically to endure the discomfort as they left the city behind. With a wry grin, Blair settled against Jim’s side, the bigger man’s strong frame providing at least some protection from the constant jouncing around. For his part, Jim was truly grateful for Blair’s grounding presence and guidance in lowering his sense dials and keeping them there for the duration.

After covering a fair distance from even the most sparsely-populated outskirts of the city, the truck pulled to the side of the road, and the driver came around the back to let the tailgate down. Jumping down first, Jim smiled widely at the other man before pulling him in for a brief but hearty hug. Stepping back, he chuckled at the other’s assumed pained expression.

“Hey, Santos! Good to see you again, my friend. And I have to say, you’re driving hasn’t improved any over the years.”

“You’re too kind, amigo,” Santos drawled, punching Ellison lightly on the bicep. “Like a gringo would know anything about driving anyhow,” he scoffed.

“But more seriously, my friend, we still have some distance to go, so I suggest that any of you who needs to take care of business, do so now. It’s private enough in the arroyo over there. And help yourselves to the bottles of water in the cab. All your gear is already at the airstrip waiting for you, and Barney is looking to take off on schedule, so we need to push on.”

Thanking the man for his thoughtfulness and efficiency, they took it in turns to relieve themselves, taking the opportunity to stretch their legs while they could, and gratefully slaking their thirst from the bottled water. In a short while, they were back on the road, now looking forward with either eagerness, or trepidation in Blair’s case, to the next stage of their journey.

\------------------------------

It was approaching mid-day by the time they reached the airstrip, which was little more than a flattened and cleared tract of land bordering a large ranch. However, it was obviously big enough to cope with a plane the size of a Dakota, and Blair peered with no small sense of shock at the plane in question, which was waiting beside a group of ramshackle buildings constituting a shabby office and reception area, a large warehouse, workshops and a dilapidated hangar.

“Jeez, Jim,” he murmured softly, not wanting to attract the attention of the rest of their companions. “Tell me that’s not our airplane? It doesn’t look capable of getting off the ground!”

Realising that Blair was genuinely nervous, Jim refrained from snapping at him in irritation, as he was initially tempted to do. After climbing down from the truck, he took his guide’s arm and pulled him aside, ignoring the quizzical glances sent in their direction by the other team members.

“Look, Blair, I know you’re scared, and I can’t blame you,” he muttered quietly but firmly. “It’s your first assignment, and you’re sure to have reservations. But you have to understand that in this type of undercover work, things aren’t always as they seem. Yes, we have to take risks – it’s all part of the job. But we don’t take unnecessary ones, OK? Sure, that airplane looks as rough as Santos’ truck on the surface, but both are tuned to perfection where it counts. Mechanically they’re as sound as it’s possible for them to be, and that’s why this airstrip and its regular schedule is tried and trusted by anyone who needs an unobtrusive and covert transport job.

“Now, trust me, and try and find your centre, or whatever you need to do to relax a bit. We all understand even if it doesn’t always seem like it. Everyone here had to start sometime, and no one in their right mind would deny being scared at some point. If anyone ever tells you they’re not, Chief, they’re either lying through their teeth, or too stupid to know the difference.

“I’m trusting you to believe in me – believe in _us_ – OK? Because I don’t have time to provide you with little speeches of encouragement every time you get the shakes, whether I want to or not,” and he squeezed Blair’s shoulders firmly as he held the smaller man’s wide-eyed gaze. He knew he sounded harsh, but it wouldn’t do Sandburg any favours to coddle him, so he just had to hope that Blair understood where he was coming from. And he was greatly relieved when Blair nodded quickly, trying to offer a tiny smile of acceptance.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I’ll try not to annoy you again. I know I’ve got to suck it up and get on with the job, but if I have a melt-down, I’ll try to do it quietly, OK?” and he snickered ruefully as Jim pulled him in for a quick but comforting hug.

“That’s all I can ask, Chief. Now, come on and meet Barney. He’ll be itching to get off the ground a.s.a.p., so we’d better move!”

\---------------------------------

By mid-afternoon, they were well on their way to the next airstrip, and flying over dense rainforest. The elderly plane was as noisy and uncomfortable as Jim had said it would be, but to Blair’s relief it certainly sounded healthy enough once it had bounced into the air from the rough and pitted runway. Mostly designated as cargo hold, the few movable seats available were certainly not designed for comfort, and the unpressurised cabin was cold and loud.

However, it was obvious that Jim and his team were well-used to such unavoidable discomfort, and all settled down to pass the time as best they could. They had all spent some time checking over their weapons and other equipment, each declaring himself satisfied with their specific kit. After that, Winston and Tom began to play cards with an old pack produced from one of the pockets of Tom’s scruffy but practical combat pants. Bjorn read a battered paperback action novel with avid concentration, while ‘Bruce’ was somewhere deep inside his own mind, apparently meditating successfully despite the aircraft’s shake, rattle and rolling.

As for Jim and Blair, Blair found to his surprise that he was able to relax against Jim’s side, the warmth and strength of Jim’s arm around his shoulders making him feel comfortable enough to close his eyes, even managing to doze a little on and off while Jim kept watch, alert despite his relaxed position.

And then disaster struck.

Sentinel senses picked up the tell-tale whine of a ground-to-air missile seconds after its launch from somewhere in the jungle below them.  With barely time to yell, “Incoming!” to his team, he looked towards the cockpit where Barney wrestled with the controls. Jim knew instantly that the battle-experienced pilot was aware of the imminent danger, but the laden Dakota was no jet fighter, and was moving too sluggishly to avoid the impact.

When whatever missile was used struck the side of the plane, it tore a large section of the fuselage away, causing the old aircraft to lurch alarmingly to one side as the cargo shifted. While Jim looked on in horror, arms wrapped tightly around his terrified guide in a futile attempt to protect him, he saw Church and Mulcady disappear through the gaping hole, gone in an instant and lost forever, along with most of the team’s equipment. While Ericsson wrestled with his restraining straps, trying to avoid following suit, Chin Lo, now wide awake, swore continuously under his breath as he stared narrow-eyed at the spot where his friends had been.

When a second missile struck just in front of the tailplane, a shouted warning was heard from Barney up in the cockpit.

“Hang on, guys! We’re going down!” and his remaining passengers could do nothing more than hang on for dear life, praying that the old plane could hold together enough to get them down in one piece, however unlikely that was with dense tree cover below as far as the eye could see.

Too scared to speak, Blair clung to Jim as hard as he could, trying to convey his love for his sentinel even as he expected to die very soon. Leaning down quickly to look into his guide’s beloved face for perhaps the last time, Jim lowered his head and kissed the lovely mouth briefly, murmuring, “I love you, Chief. Hold on!”

Seconds later, the Dakota plunged into the trees, both wings almost immediately ripped from the fuselage as the body of the aircraft plummeted down towards the ground. However, this actually at least saved the men inside from incineration, as the fuel tanks exploded behind them, setting alight part of the tree canopy.

A bone-rattling crunch heralded the Dakota’s final landing place, and the already badly damaged body of the airplane split in two, causing Jim and Blair to be thrown clear to crash through the lower branches of the nearby trees to land in a crumpled heap on the leaf mould below, still strapped into their seats.

For long moments Blair fought for air, his breath driven from his body on impact with the ground. Wheezing painfully, he forced his eyes open, immediately concerned for Jim, who was half-sitting, half-lying motionless in the battered seat beside him.

Wrestling to undo his seat harness as soon as he could draw in enough air to function, Blair finally slipped from his seat to kneel before Jim, shaking hands reaching for Jim’s neck to feel for a pulse.

“Oh, Jim! Please, please be alive, man! Please Jim!” and he sighed in profound relief as he felt Jim’s pulse, strong and steady, beating beneath his touch. However, Jim was bleeding from several deep gashes to his forearms and hands, probably earned from trying to shield Blair from the obstructions they had hit during their unplanned exit from the plane. As Blair looked wildly about him, seeking something to bind up the freely-bleeding wounds, Jim moaned softly, coming round from his brief blackout which was undoubtedly caused by the blow to his head as evidenced by the already bruising knot on his forehead.

“Chief? Blair? You there, babe?” and Jim winced as he opened his eyes, blinded temporarily by the light as his sense dials span out of control.

Deeply relieved, Blair fell immediately into guide-mode, stroking Jim’s arm and enquiring solicitously about the state of his dials. Realising instantly that Jim was in serious pain, he carefully talked the sentinel through the necessary exercises, only relaxing when the naked relief in Jim’s face told him that his sentinel was back in control.

However, as soon as he was able to move without fear of passing out again, Jim released himself from his harness, and, leaning slightly on Blair with an arm around his guide’s sturdy shoulders, he made his way as quickly as possible to the wreckage of the Dakota, knowing pretty much already what he would find there, but wanting to spare Blair for a little longer.   However, Blair was well aware of what he was doing, and Jim wasn’t really surprised when his guide murmured, “It’s bad, isn’t it, Jim? I mean, I know you can tell – but did anyone else survive?”

“There’s one heartbeat, Chief,” replied Jim grimly, a deep frown creasing his brow, “But it’s slow and laboured. I think it’s Ericsson, Blair. But he’s the only one…” and Blair bit back a sob as they carefully climbed into what was left of the aircraft.

Even Jim had to swallow hard at the carnage that awaited them inside the crashed plane. He had deliberately stepped in front of Blair so he could check the situation out first, but there was no shielding his guide from the dreadful scene. Ericsson was indeed still alive, but thankfully unconscious, as the big man had almost been cut in two by a ragged sheet of metal torn from the shattered cargo bay door. He was bleeding out fast, and all Jim could do was go to him and hold his hand, hoping that his comrade might somehow know he wasn’t going to die alone.

He was surprised when Blair gently nudged him aside, and took his place.

“Go see to the others, Jim. Just in case. I’ll sit with Bjorn, man. I liked him too.” And he settled down, holding the big hand in both of his own, murmuring comfortingly to him as Ericsson’s life drained peacefully away.

Grateful for his guide’s care and concern, even if he knew the young man would suffer from the after-effects later, Jim moved over to where Bruce lay, broken, twisted and bleeding like an unwanted puppet.   He had been thrown from his seat in the plane’s dying moments, and had sustained multiple injuries, his face in particular, which was now barely recognisable as human. Wanting to spare Blair from the gruesome sight, Jim grabbed a loose piece of tarpaulin from close by and covered the shattered corpse, composing a silent but sincere prayer to whatever spirit the man had believed in to take him safely into the big dojo in the sky.

That done, and quickly checking to see that Blair was still concentrating on Bjorn, Jim climbed over the twisted wreckage to reach what was left of the cockpit, and the man inside.

From the look of things, Barney had died quickly, impaled by a huge, broken branch that had burst through the glass and skewered him through the chest. It wasn’t going to be easy getting the body out, and Jim knew he’d need Blair’s help, although he fervently wished he could spare his guide from the additional grief. But he also knew he was doing the young man a great disservice through his natural desire to shield him. Blair was far stronger than he looked, both physically and mentally, and he had led anything but a sheltered life. He would cope, albeit with plenty of nightmares and self-analysis, and Jim just had to be there to offer unconditional support. The same support that Blair offered him every day as he helped Jim hone his sensory gifts.

With a sigh, Jim patted Barney’s unmarked hand, murmuring, “Goodbye, old friend. But I guess you won’t be too upset that you were shot down in combat after all. You always said you wanted to be killed in action rather than die of old age, and you were. See you on the other side, my friend,” and he turned away, intent on seeing how Blair was faring.

As he reached Blair’s side, the young man looked up at him, eyes huge and wet in a pale face as he gently placed Bjorn’s hand on his now unmoving chest.

“He’s gone, Jim. I don’t know if he heard me, but I thought, just for a moment, that he might have opened his eyes. Just a bit, you know? I hope he knew he wasn’t alone Jim. No one should die alone…” and he swallowed hard, not wanting to give in to his grief just yet when there was work to be done. Stiffening his resolve in the face of Jim’s bitter loss, he continued bravely, “I know we have to take care of them, man, but let me see to your injuries first. Your cuts need cleaning and dressing if they’re not to get infected. Come on, man,” and he stood, looking around him for a first aid kit.

Touched by Blair’s courage and concern for him, Jim smiled sadly and nodded, pointing to the thankfully undamaged kit still bolted securely to the fuselage.

“You’re right, Chief, and thanks. I’d dialled down so far I’d forgotten about these cuts, and yes, I could do with getting them cleaned up before we move the bodies. But what about you?” he added, suddenly noting Blair’s additional pallor as he swayed slightly where he stood.

“’M OK, man. Just shock, I guess. I was the lucky one, after all, wasn’t I?” he continued bitterly. “I think all I got were some pretty good bruises, that’s all.” Subjecting his guide to a quick but thorough scan, Jim realised to his great relief that Blair was telling the truth, and his injuries were minimal.

“Thank the gods for something, then, Chief,” he breathed with conviction. “Come on. Let’s get outside, you can do your thing with these cuts, and we’ll get our friends buried before the jungle creatures take an interest in them. I won’t allow that…” and he wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulder again as they moved a little way away from the wreck, sitting down on a convenient piece of metal as Blair opened the box of medical supplies and began to clean Jim’s gashes with alcohol.

Blair completed his task quickly and efficiently, heartily glad that Jim was able to dial pain down to zero, as it would have hurt like the blazes otherwise. Both men were well aware that, although there were some fairly heavy-duty morphine-derived painkillers and some analgesic creams in the well-stocked medical kit, they had no idea how long they were likely to be stranded here, or what sort of injuries they might incur during their stay, so it was in their best interest to keep the better medication until they really needed it.

Once Blair had carefully packed away the kit, putting aside the used swabs and cotton wool for disposal later, both men knew they couldn’t put off the next task any longer. Their comrades had to be removed from the carcass of the Dakota and buried respectfully but deeply enough so that the jungle creatures couldn’t disturb their graves until they could be disinterred and returned to their families for decent burial and closure.

Reaching over to squeeze Blair’s shoulder, Jim waited until the younger man looked up and met his worried gaze.

“You OK, Chief? This isn’t going to be pleasant, but I can’t manage it alone. I’m so sorry that you have to see and experience such an awful thing, but what’s done is done, and we need to finish up here and then get away from the area as soon as possible. Whoever is responsible for this will be looking for the wreckage, and we can’t be around here when they come.”

“I know, Jim. I do understand, and I’m good, really. Our friends need our best efforts now – they deserve no less – so I’m not about to wimp out on them now. Come on, my Sentinel. Let’s do it!”

And they set about their gruesome task together, concentrating not on the bloodied remains they were retrieving from the plane, but rather on the living men, and how they remembered them.

\----------------------------

**Part 6: Mission Impossible?**

**Several hours later:**

Still pushing on strongly, Jim forged his way through the wet and tangled undergrowth, concentrating on putting as much distance between them and the crashed aircraft as possible. The darkness of the rainforest at night didn’t trouble the sentinel, and he trusted Blair to keep up and follow in his footsteps. However, he was suddenly aware that Blair wasn’t as close behind him as before, and he turned abruptly to check on his guide. Sure enough, the younger man was swaying on his feet, unable to stumble another step without falling flat on his face, exhaustion oozing from every pore.

“Sorry, Jim. Just got dizzy all of a sudden. I’ll be OK if I can rest up a minute…” and he sank down to the ground, uncaring of the mud and damp, his heavy pack slipping from his shoulders as he fell to his knees then shifted to his butt.

“Shit, Chief, why didn’t you say something earlier?” Jim muttered angrily, although his ire was self-directed rather than meant for Blair. He felt guilty that he hadn’t picked up on his guide’s distress, focussing so hard on finding the best path through the dense foliage. Sinking to his knees beside Blair, he quickly scanned the smaller man, realising that although his guide might have only been physically bruised and battered in the crash, he was also shocky and drained from the desperately hard and distressing task of extracting and burying their comrades. Not wanting Jim to face it alone, or put more pressure on his injuries than necessary, Blair had doggedly worked alongside his sentinel, ignoring his own aches and pains. With barely time to take a drink from the surviving bottled water, Jim had insisted they put together as much as they could carry out of the equipment they had managed to salvage, and they had set off even though night had already fallen.

It was hardly surprising that Blair had finally run out of steam. Although much tougher than most people would imagine on looking at him, he was still no match for the super-fit and battle-hardened soldiers he had trained with for such a short time, and Jim was the best of those.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing that I didn’t realise you were in trouble. Look, let’s get the tarp unrolled, and we’ll stop for a few hours. You need to sleep, but first you need something to eat. Tomorrow I’ll try and hunt, depending on how much progress we manage to make, but for now you’ll have to make do with a couple of granola bars washed down with water.” As he spoke, he rooted through Blair’s pack, pulling out the necessary items and pushing them into Blair’s hands.

“Get those down you, babe, while I get the tarp out,” and he unrolled the lightweight but strong material, spreading it out and easing his guide onto it and off the damp ground.

“I’m sorry we can’t risk a fire yet, Blair, but if we roll up together in this, we should stay warm enough. And don’t worry. I’ll hear anything threatening before it gets anywhere near us, so you’re OK to sleep.”

And it was a sign of Blair’s intense fatigue that he did as he was bid without comment, and was soon rolled up, cuddled in Jim’s arms and deeply asleep while the sentinel kept watch.

\--------------------------------

It was daylight when Blair opened his sleep-hazy eyes, realising immediately that he was alone although still wrapped warmly in the tarpaulin. “Jim? Jim?” he muttered urgently, his anxiety spiking when he failed to locate his partner. He crawled quickly out of the make-shift bed, looking around him wildly, only to breathe a huge sigh of relief when Jim pushed through the undergrowth and took him into his strong arms.

“Sshh, it’s OK, babe. I was just doing a quick recon. Look, go find a tree, then we’ll have another bite to eat while I explain what I’ve been planning. We need to get moving again as soon as possible, but I need you to know what I’ve decided.” Chewing his lower lip, Blair regarded him seriously for a moment before nodding his agreement, knowing this was not the time to open a debate. Apart from the fact that his bladder was complaining mightily for relief, he trusted Jim to do what was best for both of them without unnecessary questioning from him. Stepping away, he moved behind a nearby tree to do his business, then hurried back to find Jim already munching on another granola bar.

“Here you go, Chief.   Breakfast is served,” he joked wryly as he tossed another to Blair. “Get that down you, and listen up, OK? I’m sorry I had no time to explain what I intend to do last night, but it was more important to get away from there. Realistically, we should have moved out as soon as we’d gathered ourselves together, but I couldn’t leave the guys to the mercy of the jungle predators,” and he smiled sadly at his partner when Blair reached out and squeezed his shoulder in mute understanding.

“Anyhow, I know that we were more or less over-flying the target area when we were fired on, so it figures that either we were set up, which I hope isn’t the case, or the cartel has way better intel and tracking technology than we believed.  We always suspected that they had access to top-class weaponry. There’re enough unscrupulous arms manufacturers and dealers who don’t let their consciences get in the way of profit. And if they get paid with drugs, then everybody’s happy.

“Anyhow, I don’t see how we can accomplish our mission alone, Chief, much as I’d like to. We lost too much equipment, and we need more than two men to infiltrate the target area and locate enough explosives to destroy it. The small amount we’re carrying will only do relatively minor damage unless used to set off a much bigger stockpile.”

At that point, Blair’s face took on a distinctly greenish tinge as he glowered at his pack. “Sorry, Jim,” he murmured in response to Jim’s quizzical glance. “I was just thinking, it’s a good job that this stuff doesn’t explode on impact, or we’d have been blown to smithereens.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jim answered with a rueful grin. “But that’s the great thing about this generation of plastique. You can play with it like putty and it’s completely safe. But as soon as you use a detonator – kaboom!” and he chuckled mirthlessly.

“But as I was saying, I think all we can do is hike back out of the jungle and make our way north to the airstrip where we were supposed to land. We need to contact the unit as soon as possible to let them know what happened, so they can send another team in if necessary. Or come up with another plan. Either way, they need to know as much as we can tell them. But we’re looking at several days’ hard slog, Chief. No two ways about it.”

“I suppose it’s too much to hope for that we can get a signal for my cell phone anytime soon?” murmured Blair wistfully. “I know we lost most of the communications stuff when the plane was hit, but do you think Barney managed to get a ‘mayday’ off before we went down?”

“I doubt it, Chief, but even if he did, it’ll still take some time to get a search and rescue team here. But hang on to that cell phone, Chief. It’ll come in useful once we’re within signal range. I’m assuming you’ve kept it charged?”

“Yeah, man. I know I was never very good at doing that before, but a few weeks’ with the unit has drummed it into me. It’s turned off now, of course, but I just hope it’ll still hold its charge as long as the manufacturer says it will.”

“OK, then. If you’re ready, let’s get moving. Time’s a’wastin’, Chief.”

\--------------------------

Some while later, both men were making good progress with Blair plodding doggedly in Jim’s footsteps, determined not to let his sentinel down. Despite the few hours’ sleep he’d managed, he was beginning to flag a bit, but wouldn’t have dreamed of complaining; not, at least, until he was ready to drop. Suddenly he pulled up short, bumping into Jim’s back, completely taken unawares by the other man’s sudden stillness and instantly ashamed of his lapse in attention. Looking up in surprise, he was about to apologise for his clumsiness when his words dried in his throat. Jim was on high alert, his finger pressed to Blair‘s lips as he fixed the younger man with a warning glare. He cocked his head on one side, plainly listening carefully to something, then swung around to face the opposite direction for a long moment.

Lowering his head to whisper in Blair’s ear, he murmured softly, “We’re being followed, Chief. Have been for the last couple of hours at some distance, but now they’re approaching. I’m pretty sure it’s not the drug smugglers. I don’t think they’re good enough to have been able to track us so far so quickly. I think we’ve stumbled into tribal territory. This could be tricky, so be on your guard. Then again,” he added with a grim chuckle, “It’s probably much more your scene, huh? Time for my little anthropologist to shine,” and he gently ran his free hand over Blair’s curls, the gesture calming Blair more than anything else he could have done.

Blair nodded, eager to please and show Jim that he was ready. “I’ll do my best, Jim. If this is Chopec turf, at least I can make myself understood. They speak Quechua, so hopefully I can convince them that we’re not here to cause trouble. And if their sentinel and guide pair are with them, perhaps they’ll remember me? Can but hope…”

Just then, an armed warrior stepped out from the thick undergrowth, backed up by two more, one of whom was holding a bow and arrow at the ready and the other a blowpipe, both weapons pointed threateningly at the two interlopers. Dropping his pack, Blair held out his hands in the universal gesture of peace, showing the tribesmen that he was unarmed and non-threatening, and bowed his head briefly in respect.

“Forgive our intrusion, we mean you no harm. We fell from the sky when our transport was shot down by the criminals who have camped close to your land, and we are trying to get back to our base. We did not mean to trespass in your territory, and if you will let us continue on our way, we will leave you in peace as soon as possible.” He swallowed hard, but met the tribesman’s stern gaze with an open and honest one of his own, trying to convince the man of his sincerity.

After a long moment, the other man spoke, tone measured and thoughtful as he studied both Jim and Blair.

“We saw the metal bird fall from the sky, and know that there were others aboard, others who did not survive. The fire did much damage to the trees nearby. We have been tracking you, and you seem to be telling the truth. You do not act like those who desecrate our land and trespass across our territory without permission.

“But nevertheless, we cannot just let you go. We have to be sure that you are as you say you are, for our own safety and that of our people. You must come to our village where our shaman will determine if you tell the truth--”

Suddenly, two other figures materialised, silently stepping out from behind the other three warriors, causing the spokesman to pause and look questioningly at them. And Blair beamed, genuinely thrilled as he recognised immediately the sentinel and guide partnership he had met with on his expedition a few years previously.

“Toma! Arak! It’s so good to see you both! How do you fare?”

Scowling ferociously, the larger of the two men strode towards Blair, looking as if he wanted to tear the young man limb from limb. Growling deep in his throat, Jim was about to rush to his guide’s aid, and damn the consequences, when he realised that, far from terrified, Blair was actually giggling as he hurled himself into the big man’s arms, to be caught up in a full-body hug, the man now grinning as widely as his smaller partner who was looking on in fond approval.

A few moments later, after depositing a somewhat breathless Blair back on his feet, the big man, Toma, placed both hands on his willing captive’s shoulders, studying the flushed face intently.

“You have changed, young shaman,” he said at last, intelligence sparking from his eyes even as he radiated confidence and power. “What has happened since you visited us last?” and he turned his speculative gaze to Jim, eyeing him up and down and obviously scanning him minutely.

“Ah! You found him then. Your own sentinel. Did I not say that you would? But you are not happy, young one. Was he not of your choosing?”

Blushing furiously now, Blair cast a shy and apologetic glance at Jim before he replied. Obviously embarrassed and flustered, he muttered, “Um, yes – I mean, no! Oh shit…look, Toma, um…it’s a bit more complicated than that. Can I have a moment to explain?”

“I’m sorry, Jim, I didn’t mean that to come out like it did,” he murmured _sotto voce,_ only to blush even more as he remembered that Toma could hear him just as well as Jim could, and knew just enough English to understand his discomfiture.

“I’m in serious trouble here!” he said more loudly, glancing ruefully between Jim, Toma, the grinning Arak, and the three other warriors, who were watching in bemusement.

Before Jim could respond one way or the other, Toma took control of the situation, beckoning to Jim as he placed Blair in between himself and Arak, both wrapping an arm around the young guide’s waist. “Tell your sentinel that we are going to our village. He will come to no harm unless you will it, little one. But Incacha will want to meet with both of you. And also, you need food and rest. You have had a hard two days,” and he turned to go, leaving Blair to quickly translate for Jim as he was virtually carried along by his friends.

Not exactly thrilled with the situation, but prepared to go along with it for now, Jim followed closely, alert and ready to react to any threat as the three other warriors brought up the rear, one of whom scooped up Blair’s abandoned backpack.

\--------------------------------

**Later that afternoon, the Chopec village:**

It was a weary and footsore sentinel who more or less staggered in the Chopec village many hours later, but as least he was conscious, which was more than could be said for his guide. The warriors had pushed on relentlessly, insisting that they reach their settlement and bring their guests to Incacha as soon as possible for everyone’s safety. Understanding their need for speed, Jim hadn’t argued, at least until his exhausted guide stumbled and almost face-planted the forest floor, only to be swept up into the big native sentinel’s arms, where he had stayed throughout the rest of the journey.

Jim bitterly resented the fact that he wasn’t the one to be carrying and caring for his guide, but common sense told him that he wasn’t up to the task, so he grudgingly allowed Toma and Arak to do it for him. After all, he was also feeling the stress and strain of the situation, which, coupled with his own injuries, made him less likely to argue the point. Although Blair’s relative proximity helped him to a great extent, the fact that his guide was now deeply asleep in Toma’s arms, and unable to verbally guide Jim through his control exercises meant that his pain dial was beginning to malfunction, and the gashes were making themselves known again. Added to that, the tell-tale scent of mild infection was tickling the sentinel’s nose, and he knew he needed to get the wounds cleaned, treated and re-dressed quickly if he was to avert potential complications. The jungle environment was hardly conducive to trouble-free healing, even for a sentinel.

He was grateful therefore when one of the other warriors had indicated that he take over carrying Jim’s pack to alleviate the chafing on Jim’s sore hands and forearms, since one of his companions was still carrying Blair’s pack with apparent ease. Nodding with relief, he shrugged off the heavy bundle and handed it over, feeling instantly better and able to continue the forced march for however long it took to reach their destination.

En route, they had met up with another scouting party, and the swift interchange of information and additional focus and purposefulness in his companions’ demeanour told him all he needed to know about their concerns for their safety, so he made no complaint when they pushed on even harder. At least Blair was already out of it by that point, so Jim didn’t have to worry about the smaller man’s anxiety level. He knew that it was a less than charitable thought, and probably unfair to his guide, but he was only human after all, not super-human as Blair frequently stressed. Under the circumstances, he felt he could allow himself a little self-interest as long as Blair remained in blissful ignorance.  Then again, he chastised himself; self-pity wasn’t something he normally indulged in. Perhaps it was because all of a sudden he didn’t feel so good….

The raiding party stopped dead in the centre of the settlement, turning to stare in shock as the large American sentinel suddenly dropped like a stone with no warning. As the rest of the nearby villagers quickly gathered round, Toma carefully set his still-sleeping burden down, and bent over the fallen man, scanning him thoroughly as a group of plainly authoritative figures approached. The group of elders was led by a kindly-looking man with red face paint and wise eyes which now held a worried expression.

“Incacha. The young shaman’s sentinel is sick. Although the wounds he incurred when their transport was destroyed were not serious in themselves, I can smell the badness in them. He needs to be treated soon, or he may even die.”

Incacha rested his hand on Toma’s shoulder, smiling softly as he refrained from reminding the man that healing was his business, and he could see for himself that the white man was already succumbing to the effects of heat, exhaustion and the ever-present threat of infection.

“Bring him to my hut, Toma,” he replied gently. “And bring the young shaman also. He will want to help his sentinel, and I suspect his sentinel would prefer white man’s medicine if they have it with them, although I recall that the young one was much more open to our ways than most.”

Just then, both looked around as Blair stirred, stubbornly pushing himself up on his elbows with a groan as his instincts told him Jim needed his help. Ignoring the persistent fuzziness in his still-tired brain, he blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes as he pinpointed his sentinel, flat out on the dirt and being checked over by Toma and another man he vaguely remembered seeing briefly during his previous trip. It wasn’t anyone with whom he had had a chance to do more than exchange polite greetings, although he had realised then that the calm but self-assured man was someone of particular importance within the tribe.

“Oh man! When did he collapse, Toma? How long have I been out of it? Oh gods, I’m so useless! I should have realised…” and he virtually crawled the short distance to his partner’s side, hands immediately stroking and petting the increasingly feverish brow.

“He has only just fallen, young one, and you could have done nothing to help him during our journey. He was better for knowing that you were being taken care of, so stop taking on guilt to which you have no right. Come with us now, and we will take Enqueri to Incacha’s hut. He will be in good hands, and you will be there for him also.”

Nodding frantically, Blair stood aside as Toma scooped Jim up into his arms with a grunt of effort, hurrying alongside the second man, who he assumed was the Incacha to whom Toma had referred. Too distracted to have registered the name by which Toma alluded to Jim, he concentrated instead on trying to send loving and supportive thoughts to his lover. He realised immediately that Jim was too deeply unconscious for their link to work and he desperately needed to hold him and care for him.

When they reached the large hut where Incacha lived, Toma ducked to enter, gently depositing Jim on the fur-covered cot that Incacha indicated. Blair followed on his heels, dropping immediately to his knees beside the unconscious sentinel, almost too distracted to remember his manners. Glancing up, he met Toma’s sympathetic gaze, and murmured, “Thank you so much Toma. I’m so sorry to have been such a burden to you, and so sorry also that our presence has caused disruption and possible danger to you and your people. When I dreamed of coming back here, I hoped it would be in peace – an amicable reunion. I have so much to learn; so much I should like to understand about all of you. I’m sorry…” and he ducked his head, ashamed and frightened that he and Jim might well have inadvertently put these people in peril. However, he raised his head again as the big sentinel grasped his arm, demanding his attention.

“You were no burden to me, young one. I was happy to be of service to you, and I am glad to meet with you again. Also, you need to understand that any peril from the evil ones dwelling on our border is not of your making. Arak and I look forward to getting to know your sentinel once he is well again, which he will be. Incacha and you will make certain of that.

“And if in due course we can aid you in your fight against the interlopers, we will. I am sure I can speak for the elders and our shaman in that respect?” and he met Incacha’s still serene but slightly amused glance.

“What Toma says is true, young one. Up to a point. You did not bring the peril with you, and I am sure that between us your sentinel will be well. But all other decisions will be made in council,” he added, directing a slightly reproving frown at Toma. “Let us deal with the most urgent issue first, and care for your sentinel.” And recognising the gentle but firm dismissal for what it was, Toma sent Blair another supportive grin and backed out of the hut, leaving the two healers to do what they must.

\--------------------------------

**24 hours later, Incacha’s hut:**

Jim snuffled slightly in his sleep, and instinctively turned his head to nuzzle against the gentle hand that cupped his cheek. He felt warm, but not overly-so; not like the incessant burning heat and subsequent drenching sweats he vaguely recalled in flashes of fevered dreams. The cool, wet cloth that was covering his brow was exquisitely comforting and sentinel senses were humming along nicely, proof positive that his guide must be close by. He was tired, but in a good way. Strange as it seemed, it didn’t feel like the exhaustion caused by pushing his endurance to the limit, but rather that of a prolonged period of gentle exercise, or perhaps love-making? At that thought, he forced his eyes open, wanting suddenly to see the most important person in his life. The beautiful young man who was now his. His guide and lover for all time.

And he was shocked at the sight that met his eyes.

Certainly, Blair was indeed sitting beside him, cross-legged as he tended lovingly to Jim’s needs, but he looked truly wrecked and as close to total devastation as Jim had ever seen. His short curls were lank with sweat, and his pale face was shadowed with a good two days’ worth of beard. Deep black marks like bruises ringed mournful blue eyes, testifying to the young man’s physical and mental exhaustion. And although Blair could never smell anything but good to his devoted sentinel, his enticing scent was soured by sweat, fear and misery.

All in all, Jim knew for sure that his guide had been tending him non-stop for however long he had been ill. And that realisation jerked him back to reality, and the need to catch up on exactly what had happened while he had been out of it. He opened his mouth to speak, only for a feeble croak to emerge from his dry throat, but the tiny sound was enough to galvanise Blair into action. Face lighting up like the rising sun, Blair sprang into action and he reached for a cup of water. His other arm carefully encircled Jim’s neck and shoulders to raise him slightly even as his eager voice kicked in at high speed.

“Oh man! Oh Jim, it’s so good to see you awake – properly, that is. I mean, you _are_ properly awake aren’t you? You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while, man, but this is different. You seem like _you_ again – not hallucinating or anything? Oh gods, I’m sorry. I’m babbling. Look, have a drink. I’m sure you need it. No ice though…” and he shut down with embarrassment as Jim sent him a faint but fond grin. Swallowing hard, he concentrated on helping Jim drink the much-appreciated liquid in tiny sips, but was completely unable to prevent his eyes filling with tears of exhausted relief at the sight of his beloved sentinel once more in his right mind.

As soon as he felt able to speak without coughing, Jim gently pushed the cup aside and fixed his guide with a kind but commanding gaze.

“It’s OK, babe. _I’m_ OK, truly. Which I think is mainly down to your care and attention, am I right?   On the other hand, _you_ look like you’ve worn yourself to a frazzle and could do with some TLC yourself. If it’s OK with you, babe, I’d like it if you would lie with me for a while. I mean, it would comfort me a lot, and you could catch me up on what’s been happening?” and he had no qualms at all at manipulating his lover’s sensitivity if it meant that he could get Blair to relax for a few minutes at least.

Blair looked unsure for a moment, then capitulated with good grace. Within moments he was snuggled up on the fur-covered pallet pressed close to his somewhat smug sentinel, and before he knew it, he was deeply asleep.

A shadow in the doorway alerted Jim to the presence of a visitor, but the kind face of Incacha calmed his fears. The man nodded approvingly at Blair, cuddled now in Jim’s arms, and transferred his understanding gaze to Jim. Nodding again, he sketched a mute farewell, and retreated into the dusk, leaving sentinel and guide to reconnect and continue their healing together.

\---------------------

Several hours later at daybreak, Jim awoke to feel Blair unconsciously rubbing his face against Jim’s chest, rather like a kitten. Still deeply asleep, the younger man looked physically far better, even though his disreputable appearance had worsened even more, and he was certainly ripe. Lifting a gentle hand, Jim brushed the beard-stubbled cheek, finding that the whiskers were already softening slightly as Blair’s beard set in. He grinned fondly, thinking that he had never before had such a hairy lover, either male or female for sure - but he adored the contrasting hair on his guide’s beautiful body. The soft silky curls on Blair’s head contrasting with the tougher beard; the soft but springy chest hair and the crisper, curly bush at his groin. But back and buttocks were smooth and satiny, and his arms and legs were actually far less hairy than Jim’s own. _Probably making up for my lack of chest hair,_ Jim thought slightly self-deprecatingly. _Got to have a decent growth somewhere!_

Peering over Blair’s head, Jim could make out several bowls placed just inside the door of the hut, and he nodded in appreciation. Seemed like someone had brought some fresh food and water for them, and it looked as if there was enough to wash up with also.

Just then, Blair yawned and stretched, pressing his length against Jim’s body in unadulterated pleasure. Blinking up at Jim, his face lit up in a huge smile as he saw for himself how much better his lover was.

“Oh, man! Jim, you look great! Well, a bit grubby and stubbly,” he added with a cheeky smirk, “But you really do look better. Incacha reckoned that the infection hit you hard and fast because your sentinel sensitivity probably made you more susceptible initially, but on the other hand, once we’d treated you, you did your ‘super-fast’ healing shtick again.” Then his face fell, and his eyes were wide and sad as he added, “But he also said that you probably still hadn’t fully recovered from your previous injuries; at least not enough to be able to cope with another infection so soon. God, I was so scared, Jim. I didn’t dare close my eyes in case you slipped away from me as I slept…” and he couldn’t prevent the tears which leaked from the corners of those beautiful blues as he reached up to cup Jim’s cheek in his palm. He never wanted to re-live those dreadful hours before Jim’s fever broke, when the sentinel had writhed and called out in fear and anger as his hallucinations hit hard and fast, or fell as still and silent as death, chest barely moving as Blair pressed his ear to it, feeling helpless and desperate to hear the beloved heart still beating within.

Deeply touched by Blair’s soul-deep care and concern for him, Jim wrapped his arms around the now trembling shoulders.

“It’s OK, Blair. I’m fine now, and I’m sorry to have frightened you so much. No wonder you were so shattered. But even though I’m so much better, I know it would be stupid to push myself too hard too soon, so I’m hoping we’ll be allowed to rest up here for a few more days. D’you think Incacha’ll go for that? Perhaps he’ll even agree to get a message out somehow about our status.”

Raising his face again, Blair offered a somewhat tremulous but genuine smile as he replied, “I’m sure he will, Jim. He and several of the elders came to look in on you while you were sleeping, and we talked about that. Amongst other things…” and he tailed off again, not wanting to get into anything too heavy just yet, and hoping Jim wouldn’t push him for more information. He could tell by Jim’s slightly quizzical frown that he realised his guide had more to tell, but allowed Blair to side-track him by pushing away with an apologetic smile as he slid off the pallet.

“Sorry, lover, but I really need to find a tree. But would you like me to give you a hand first? I mean,” he continued with a delightful blush, “Incacha’s sister – the chief’s wife Luisa – provided me with what I guess you’d call a Chopec urinal,” and he reached behind the pallet and brought out a rough clay pot, holding it out for Jim’s inspection, eyes telegraphing his embarrassment and faintly uneasy as to how Jim would respond.

Letting him off the hook, Jim sent him a sardonic grin, and reached for the object, simultaneously noting that his neatly-bandaged arms barely twinged as he did so. “It’s fine, kiddo. I can manage, but I’ll let you get rid of it afterwards. And once you’ve done your own thing, we should get something to eat, and then I’d be grateful if you could help me get cleaned up. I feel pretty shitty here.”

“Sure, Jim!” responded his guide eagerly, smile back full-force. “And I see what you mean about a clean-up. You really could do with one...”

“Look who’s talking, Chief! Let me tell you, kiddo, that when it comes to being ripe, you beat me hands down! But I love you anyway. But if you could see your way to getting rid of the face-fur, I’d be grateful. I’ve got rug-burn on my chest!”

And luckily Blair took his comments in the light-hearted spirit in which they were intended, and his laughter was unforced as he reached for the now-full urinal.

“Message understood, Major Ellison, sir! Give me a few, then we’ll get something to eat, and I’ll see if perhaps Luisa could arrange for some warm water also. Back soon!” and he left the hut, carefully clutching the bowl and humming faintly under his breath – a sure sign to Jim that his guide was happy again.

\------------------------------

Over the next few days, Jim and Blair gradually integrated into the Chopec village life, their way definitely eased because of Blair’s familiarity with both the language and many of their traditions. The anthropologist was in his element observing and experimenting, trying his hand at different skills and not in the least embarrassed when his efforts caused gentle amusement amongst his audience. Despite not being allowed to have that much contact with the tribe during his last expedition, the fact that he had been more or less ‘adopted’ by Toma and Arak meant that this time the rest of the people were more inclined to accept their presence with relative aplomb. Incacha in particular had a special interest in both men, although he continued to keep his own council until he was certain the time was right to confront them with his thoughts.

Both men were very conscious of their duty to carry out their mission, or, at least, report back with their progress or lack of it, but Jim bowed to common sense despite the need for urgency. Incacha had indeed sent a messenger to carry a message for the Unit, but the nearest place where legal communication with the outside world was available was a mission school established on a neighbouring tribe’s lands. That in itself involved a journey of at least two days there and two days back with the response over some very inhospitable terrain including negotiating the Apurimac river gorge, and Jim was well aware that he needed every bit of that time and more to make sure he was healed well enough for whatever he was expected to do next. Although he was healing apace, at least one of his deeper gashes should really have been stitched, and the extra exertion from the burials plus added opportunities for contamination had slowed the process considerably.

However, both Jim and Blair were making every effort to keep the wounds – and themselves – as clean as possible, and that, plus the judicious use of their limited supply of antibiotic cream alongside Incacha’s more traditional dressings seemed to be doing the trick, and there was no sign so far of any further infection.

As Jim grew stronger and his mobility improved, he and Blair used the opportunity to watch Toma and Arak at work, fascinated by their interaction and the ease with which they seemed to communicate with barely a word spoken. Blair couldn’t help but compare their performance with his and Jim’s, wondering what the ‘magic ingredient’ was, and whether it was something that so-called ‘modern’ sentinels and guides had lost over the centuries, concentrating rather on practical sense-control in a very different environment than the jungle. He asked Jim for his opinion, wondering if perhaps he was being too ‘academic’ or whether his observations were more whimsy and wishful thinking on his part.

“You know, Jim, watching Toma and Arak, it seems to me that there’s another element at work – one I remember recording when I was here last, and which I discussed in my follow-up paper. I thought that there was an almost telepathic understanding between them, far deeper than anything I’d seen in modern pairs, whether or not full bonding had taken place. It earned me some interesting feedback, not all of it complimentary, but I wanted to throw the idea out to see what it stirred up in academic circles at least. But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to me that in the modern world, particularly Western society, there was less interest in developing a strong empathic link but rather an emphasis on the purely practical need to control and hone a sentinel’s senses as an effective tool or weapon in a materialistic, science-orientated environment. I mean, I know we have a real connection and I feel very close to you. And I know we can both empathise with each other to a greater extent than I’d have ever believed possible before we bonded. But their connection – it’s much more spiritual. Transcendental…” and he tailed off, a wistful expression softening his animated features.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, what we have is better than _I’d_ believed possible, so I’m not going out of my way to look for a deeper level of understanding, Chief,” Jim replied, somewhat acerbically. “But if it means so much to you and it satisfies your inner anthropologist to study Toma and Arak, then I have no objections.

“Just as long as it doesn’t impinge on my – _our_ – comfort zone, babe,” he continued reprovingly, expression and tone hardening noticeably as he made his point. “I love you dearly Sandburg, and I appreciate your guidance and companionship more than I can say, but I’ve never wanted or needed to know more about the so-called spiritual aspect of sentinel lore. As long as I can be the best I can be using my senses for my country’s good, that’s all I need to know.”  

He knew he had disappointed Blair, and that the younger man undoubtedly felt suitably chastised, but the fact remained that he didn’t feel the need to explore the phenomenon any further, because he didn’t feel it would benefit them particularly.

And truth be told, the thought of anyone, even his beloved guide, getting even deeper into his head than Blair was already was something he didn’t wish to contemplate.

Realising that Jim had effectively vetoed further discussion, Blair dropped the subject, but it didn’t stop him from continuing his observations whenever he had the opportunity. He just wished Jim was more receptive to the possibilities such a deep connection seemed to offer.

\-----------------------------------

During the day, the pair undoubtedly had plenty to keep them occupied, working on Jim’s fitness and senses, and helping as much as they were allowed to with everyday village life. Jim also studied the Chopec warriors and their weaponry, greatly interested in the construction and use of the spears, bows and arrows and blow darts. Watching with a soldier’s eye for practicality and effectiveness, he ruefully admitted to Blair that he was very impressed despite his initial automatic knee-jerk reaction to dismiss such apparently crude and primitive methods out of hand.

“You know Chief, although these guys could hardly stand up to open combat against modern weapons and armament, as covert operators, they’re pretty darned good. I mean, if you wanted someone to appear out of nowhere to drop a guard silently with a poisoned dart, these are your men to do it. Their ability to conceal themselves in the undergrowth, appearing then melting back into it, it’s very impressive. I’d bet that even our best scouts couldn’t do it as well. These guys move like ghosts.”  

Although Blair’s interest was more academic than militaristic, he was in complete agreement, and was even happier to see his partner showing a much more open-minded side to him than Blair had expected over their really relatively short acquaintance. He knew he was probably doing Jim a great disservice, and chastised himself for being guilty of trying to stereotype his sentinel simply because the man was a professional soldier. But what he really wanted was for them to explore an even deeper relationship, although realistically that was unlikely. Despite his stubborn resistance to bonding for most of his life, now he was amazed to find that he desperately wanted to achieve the type of symbiotic unity found in indigenous pairs such as Toma and Arak. True soulmates; each one half of an amazing whole. In tune with each other on every level, both physical and spiritual.

And he hadn’t a clue as to how that state could ever be achieved where he and Jim were concerned.

\---------------------------------

While during the day Jim and Blair had plenty to occupy them, determinedly preparing themselves for whatever lay around the corner in terms of service requirements, night-time was the time for reconnecting as sentinel and guide, and also for grieving for their fallen comrades. Although neither wanted to dwell too much on the morbid reality of their friends’ deaths, they both talked freely about what they remembered about each individual, and that act in itself was cathartic for them. Blair had already had plenty of experience in dealing with the unexpected death of a loved one, Naomi being the most personal thus far, but Jim, by the very nature of his chosen occupation, had many more colleagues and friends who had gone the same way as his team. Silent but shared tears shed in the dark were healing and strengthening for both men, and both resolved that no member of their team would be forgotten.

And come the morning, both men resolved that they would do their utmost to make certain that their friends hadn’t died in vain.

\--------------------------------

**Part 7: Mission Accomplished:**

On the sixth day after Jim and Blair’s arrival in the Chopec village, the messenger sent out by Incacha and the elders returned, and he didn’t come alone.

Jim and Blair were in their hut checking through their few remaining belongings when the men arrived, and Jim tilted his head on one side to listen in to the excited voices raised in welcome.

“I think Incacha’s messenger is back, Chief. Sounds like he’s going straight to the elders’ circle to report in. You coming?” Although hardly fluent in Quechua like his guide, Jim had already picked up a smattering of basic words and phrases; enough to understand what was going on outside.

“Um, I think we need to wait until we’re summoned, Jim,” Blair replied diffidently.   “It would be bad manners to approach before our presence is requested. I know it’s frustrating, but we can’t risk annoying the chief. Apu isn’t called ‘great’ for nothing, and it would be an insult to Incacha.

“But I’m sure we’ll be called soon,” he added hurriedly, knowing only too well how impatient Jim was sure to be.

“Hope you’re right, babe. I’m not used to being kept waiting. I need to know that our message was sent OK, and I need to speak to the messenger to know for sure.”

Resigned to wait until called, rather than waste time pacing impatiently, Jim continued to check and clean their weapons while Blair took on the task of sorting and tidying their depleted first aid kit, carefully husbanding their remaining antibiotic and analgesic ointments. There were a few sterile dressings left, and they still had a reasonable supply of painkillers, because Jim had had no qualms about dialling down his pain level when necessary, although Blair watched him like a hawk when he did so in case he overdid it and damaged himself further without realising it.

“It’s all very well dialling down, Jim,” he frequently admonished the stubborn sentinel. “But you shouldn’t dial it down so far that you risk re-opening your wounds just because you can’t feel them. The pain is there for a reason. It’s warning you that your body needs to heal.”

He knew he was nagging, especially when Jim sent him a very old-fashioned look, but he was unrepentant. He was scared silly that Jim would fall ill again, and he didn’t think he could cope if he had to go through the trauma of nursing his lover in these conditions again.

With such disquieting thoughts running through his head, he looked up to study Jim, carefully checking him out for signs of a relapse, and, finding none, continued to contemplate him for another reason altogether. Because he could never get enough of gazing at Jim’s buff and sculpted body, unable to believe that such a Greek god of a man could actually consider him, Blair Sandburg, as a suitable and attractive guide and lover.

Aware of Blair’s gaze and glancing up to see the almost worshipful expression in his guide’s beautiful blue eyes, Jim grinned lazily, and, slipping the automatic rifle he’d been cleaning into a protective cloth bag, he shuffled over on his butt to where Blair was sitting cross-legged on a woven mat a few feet away.

“Penny for them, Sandburg, or you thinking what I’m thinking?” and he leered almost playfully when the younger man blushed delightfully, ducking his head to busy himself with re-packing the last of the medical items into their box.

Blair well knew that Jim could easily pick up the pheromones he was sure he was sending out in waves, but on occasion he still felt unaccountably shy, a reaction that irritated him intensely. But he owed it to Jim to explain his sudden bashfulness, because the last thing he wanted to do was to make Jim think he was rejecting his advances.

“Sorry, man. It’s silly, I know, but, well, sometimes I wonder, you know? About what you see in me? I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments, Jim, honestly. It’s just, well, look at you! And look at me! When we first met I said you were a god, and I meant it.”

In reply, Jim simply chuckled as he pulled the smaller man into his arms then onto his lap.

“What _I_ see, babe, is a beautiful young man with the face of an angel. A man who is beautiful inside and out; intelligent, wise and with remarkable taste in sentinel lovers. I’m a lucky man, and I know it.

“So, come here and give me a kiss. We haven’t kissed for at least two hours,” and he proceeded to explore and worship his guide’s lush mouth until both men felt their arousal growing to the point of urgency.

And that’s when Jim suddenly broke off with a groan of frustration.

“Goddamnit!” he muttered angrily as Blair gazed up at him, looking both puzzled and deliciously debauched.

“ _Now_ we’re being summoned! Come on, Chief. Time to find out what the messenger has to tell us,” and he eased Blair off his lap and stood, reaching down to offer his partner a hand up.

And before they left the comparative privacy of their hut, both men exchanged wry grins as they paused to adjust their attire somewhat to try to accommodate rather uncomfortable erections….

\--------------------------------

By the time they reached the elders’ circle, Jim was all business again, and in full control of his libido. Blair on the other hand was ruefully aware that his self-discipline wasn’t so easily dictated to by his sense of duty, but by the time he had seated himself in the place indicated by Incacha, his natural inquisitiveness and understandable trepidation regarding the upcoming information and subsequent discussion had done the trick and he prepared himself to act as translator for Jim as necessary.

Nodding deferentially to Apu, Incacha and the others present, Blair spoke on behalf of Jim and himself.

“Thank you for inviting us to join your circle, my fathers. We see that Yepe has returned, and would be glad to hear the response to our message,” and he offered the gathering a polite smile as he glanced inquisitively from the young warrior seated in the centre of the circle to Apu and Incacha.

Apu nodded approvingly at the words, and indicated that Incacha respond, happy to sit back and oversee the proceedings for now.

“You and Enqueri are welcome, young shaman, and we will have much to discuss which will affect you both and also our people. But first, Yepe will answer your questions and you will translate for your sentinel as necessary,” and he indicated that Blair continue as agreed.

Blair dutifully translated Jim’s words as he addressed the young warrior, but after a brief exchange, was completely bewildered, and unable to disguise his unease. Frowning in concern even as he noted Jim’s calm and unworried demeanour, he couldn’t resist questioning his lover after first offering a brief apology to the elders for his lapse into English.

“Um, Jim? Is that all? I mean, I don’t understand. I assumed we would get some sort of proper acknowledgement and instructions about how to proceed? Has Yepe told you anything at all? Just a few random words and letters?”

Shaking his head in exasperation, Jim offered his anxious guide a thin-lipped grimace as he answered, plainly irritated at being side-tracked, but realising that Blair badly needed an explanation before the meeting continued.

“Look, Sandburg – Blair – I realise you’re concerned, but this isn’t the time or the place for you to fall apart. Or to question me. I know at heart you’re still a civilian despite the paltry few weeks’ military training you’ve had, but you have to trust me. The message I gave Yepe to carry was little more than a code designed to let our guys know that we had survived. A code unique to me on a number that will automatically send up a red flag to attract the Unit’s attention. But the initial contact would hardly be on a secure line, and I just might have given up that code under torture, so there’s no way our handlers would do more than acknowledge receipt of a potentially suspect attempt to hack into their communications system.

“But by the same token, the few words they did pass on to Yepe tells me that basically we’re on our own until they can corroborate our story. But at least they’re aware that we might just be alive as claimed, and they can act accordingly.  

“Now, are you with me again, Chief? I need you back on track because now we have to decide what to do. And I’ve a feeling that that other young man might have some information we can use.”

Blushing in mortification, Blair’s apologetic response was quiet but sincere.

“Gods, I’m sorry, Jim. I just didn’t think. I mean, I assumed that we’d simply either be picked up by a search and rescue team, or receive further orders about how to proceed. ‘ET phone home’, and all that. All this clandestine stuff just never occurred to me, it’s so far out of my comfort zone. Naïve or what? No wonder you’re so frustrated with me,” he huffed, ducking his head in shame for a moment, unaware of the concerned looks sent his way from the others in the circle, or the disapproving ones aimed principally at Jim.

However, Jim reached over and wrapped a warm hand around Blair’s wrist, giving him a little shake as he offered the upset guide some much-needed comfort.

“For what it’s worth, Chief, I like the fact that you’re still an innocent at heart, OK? It’s just that there are times when you really do need to trust me and try to check your emotions at the door – or outside the circle, as it were.

“Now, are you OK to proceed? Time’s of the essence, babe.”

And Blair nodded resolutely, looking up to meet Jim’s assessing gaze. “Yeah, I’m good, Jim,” and he turned back to Incacha and Apu with a shy and self-deprecating grin, and the discussion continued.

\------------------------------------

**That night, Jim and Blair’s hut:**

Much later that night, Jim lay wide awake on their shared pallet, cuddling his guide in his arms. Blair had finally fallen into a rather restless sleep after a prolonged and gentle session of love-making, designed to sooth and relax the troubled young man, and leaving Jim to ponder on what had transpired that afternoon, because for sure he had a lot to consider.

After the short period of dissonance caused by Blair’s understandable misapprehension and resulting minor breakdown, the discussion between Jim, Blair, Yepe and the elders had continued for some time, for the most part fuelled by the information provided by Yepe’s companion.

Maipuri was a young Chopec who had chosen to spend some time in the cartel’s camp, superficially masquerading as a disgruntled native seeking a more interesting and materially rewarding life-style than that lived by his tribe. Successfully convincing the camp’s overseers that he was nothing more than a harmless and naïve manual labourer like so many others already working there, he had carefully studied the layout of the depot and within reason could describe the most pertinent details to Jim. Blair had been excited by the way the tribe had deliberately placed what virtually amounted to an ‘inside man’ in the criminals’ compound, almost gleefully smug at Jim’s overt astonishment.

“See, man! I know it’s not easy for most ‘civilised’ folks to conceive of the fact that these people aren’t the dumb pre-historic individuals beloved of Hollywood cartoonists. In their own way, the Chopec and tribes like them are as sophisticated in their perception of threats to their territory and way of life as we are! They may prefer to keep themselves to themselves where humanly possible, but faced with potential danger, they’re not above doing a little pre-emptive reconnaissance of their own.”

Nodding in rueful agreement, Jim had accepted his guide’s words of advice, and had proceeded to make the most of what Maipuri could tell him.

Responding to Blair’s gentle and subtle interrogation, the intelligent and perceptive young man was able to provide a reasonably detailed description of the most important aspects of the camp’s layout, including the numbers and general locations of personnel present. He also described how and when drug deliveries were made, either on foot through the jungle in the case of the raw material, or out via road in motorised transport in the case of the finished, weighed and packed final product and accompanying arms shipments. His information dove-tailed with what the Unit’s intel section had already surmised, and under Jim’s careful probing, had been able to convince Jim that a feasible plan of attack could be formulated, given the right equipment and a force of specialists capable of infiltrating and destroying their target. Like his lost team, for instance.

And therein lay the problem, as far as Jim was concerned. At least for the moment.

Because the Chopec had had very strong opinions on the subject, and weren’t in the least shy at putting them forward.

As Incacha and Apu declared roundly; they were in a far more precarious position as regards maintaining personal safety and the sanctity of their territory if the depot continued to exist, and they were more than ready to take the offensive now they had extra help from Enqueri and his shaman guide.

Not to mention the effective, if rather meagre supply of modern equipment and explosives available.

For a long while Jim had stubbornly resisted the Chopec’s suggestions, firmly believing that they had no place in such a potentially violent and one-sided firefight, but it was his pacifist guide who had actually swayed him to change his opinion.

Despite his real fear for the safety of both his sentinel and these fascinating people, Blair had actually found himself defending their argument, and faced up to Jim with commendable conviction.

“Look, Jim, I know what you’re saying. You’re a professional soldier and experienced covert ops specialist, used to having the most sophisticated information, personnel and equipment available.

“But you said yourself that, although the Chopec warriors couldn’t deal with open combat against modern armament, they’re the best trackers and silent killers you’ve ever seen. If you really want to try and carry out this mission, don’t you think they deserve the chance to defend their own turf in their own way? It’s not like we can expect a replacement team any time soon, and the opportunity could be lost while we’re waiting. The dealers might be under the impression that they’ve dealt with the threat for now after shooting us down, but they’ll be expecting another attack eventually, and I’m sure they’ll expect it to be something similar; something US-based, and not originating from the Chopec.”

And although he hadn’t actually agreed then and there, at least Jim had left the circle with a promise to consider his hosts’ propositions, and that was what he now intended to do.

\-------------------------------

Looking down at the curly head resting on his chest, Jim couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. Yes, as a military guide Blair was indeed a square peg in a round hole, and Jim honestly couldn’t see him changing any time soon; not and retain his unique personality anyhow. And he wasn’t in any hurry for that to happen, enjoying the quirkiness that made his guide and lover so special.

But he also knew that changes were inevitable if Blair was to remain in the unit as Jim’s bonded guide, and for once Jim began to have second thoughts about his chosen career. Perhaps, if they ever got out of this mess, he would look at other opportunities to protect the tribe. Sentinel and guide pairs operated in all types of public services ranging from the medical profession, Search and Rescue, the Police and Fire departments, and the judiciary. His stint in the specialist Sentinel and Guide Unit had certainly satisfied him initially when he could act as an individual, albeit with the responsibilities of a team leader, but he acknowledged the fact that bonding with Blair had changed him fundamentally, and he owed it to his guide – and to himself - to explore other, less dangerous fields.

And that led him to contemplate the developing relationship between him and Blair which seemed determined to progress along a different and unexpected route, at least, as far as Jim was concerned. And he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with it, even though he had no desire to break up the pairing even if such a thing was possible. Like the majority of modern sentinels, he had had little time for the more esoteric historical references to spiritual connections as he had already made very clear to Blair. But he was uneasily aware that there were subtle changes in their relationship already, and Incacha and the other sentinel and guide pairs’ constant references to Blair as ‘Little Shaman’ were beginning to irritate Jim. When he’d questioned Blair about it earlier, the younger man had simply shrugged and grinned cheerfully, having absolutely no expectations for, or belief in, his own importance.

“It’s just a nickname, Jim. A term of endearment, nothing more. Flattering for sure, but I’m nothing special, as you well know. It takes a lifetime of study and practice to become a shaman, and you need a willing teacher and mentor to guide you through it. And you have to be chosen in some way. You can’t just decide to be a shaman just because the fancy strikes you.   Toma and Arak started calling me that the first time I was here, and it’s probably become a habit. Not as important as their nickname for you, I’m certain. I mean, I wonder where ‘Enqueri’ comes from?” And they had dropped the subject then, their attention being demanded by some other necessary task.

But now Jim recalled the exchange word for word, and this time he felt unsettled although he couldn’t have said exactly why.

\------------------------------------

**Following morning: Decisions Made:**

Despite only having enjoyed a very few short hours’ sleep, Jim felt energised as he had come to a decision, and wanted to fill Blair in before discussing it with the elders. They were doing their usual morning ablutions in the nearby bathing pool, and were also once again washing their clothing as much as possible, being limited to what remained of the set of fatigues they had all changed into on boarding the Dakota. Over the time spent in the village, they had tended to wear simply their undershirts, camo pants or shorts and boots, partly because of the humidity and heat, and partly because their combat jackets stubbornly refused to give up all evidence of the blood and gore they had encountered during their trials after the crash, and in particular, the burial detail. Blair was well aware that his distaste was mostly psychological, but Jim’s was much more physical, the sentinel’s hyper senses unable to ignore the traces deeply ingrained in the fabric.

Finally giving up for now, and subjecting the offending article to a frowning perusal, Jim laid the garment aside on a rock to dry and reached over to tap Blair’s wrist, needing to attract his attention.

“Hey, Chief. I did some thinking last night, and I’d like to run it by you before I attempt to discuss my ideas with Apu, Incacha _et al._ I think you hit the nail on the head when it comes to the timing of our attempted op. The cartel will hopefully still be in ‘smug mode’ having downed our aircraft, but it won’t be long until they’re back on full alert, waiting for the next attempt. The DEA have never had a history of much success down here, simply because it’s so isolated, which is why they were hoping for the Sentinel and Guide Unit to step in and close the depot down.

“Anyhow, it seems to me that we may just have a chance to carry this off, if we use stealth tactics, Chopec style. If it wasn’t for Maipuri’s input, I wouldn’t even be considering this, but even I can see that it might actually work. This is what I was thinking….”

\-------------------------------

Shortly afterwards, Jim and Blair had finished their usual communal breakfast, and Blair had politely intercepted Incacha, deferentially requesting an audience with the elders. Head tilted slightly to one side as he contemplated his humble but eager petitioner, Incacha finally offered the younger man a gentle smile, reaching out to clasp Blair’s shoulder.

“I know what you and Enqueri want to discuss, Little Shaman, and I’m sure Apu and the council will be pleased to hear you. And the time is fast approaching when I need to reveal to you – to you both – what I have foreseen. Come with me, and we will request audience within the circle,” and turning, he beckoned to Jim, inviting him to join them as they approached the elders’ hut.

\--------------------------

A few hours later, there was a definite air of excitement and anticipation amongst the group seated at the elders’ circle, the direct result of the positive reception to Jim’s proposed plan of attack. Although there were details to iron out, and some vociferous differences of opinion as to exactly who would play what role, in general the operation met with everyone’s approval.

Basically, acting on information from Maipuri, Jim proposed that they wait for the next delivery of raw product which should happen very shortly. Since that would entail an armed party crossing Chopec territory on foot, albeit near the boundary between Chopec land and the neighbouring tribe’s, Jim requested that scouts be sent out to watch and report back as soon as the party was spotted. The raiding party who would be waiting in readiness would then ambush the intruders, hopefully drawing out some of the depot’s personnel to come to their rescue – or to save their drug shipment if nothing else.

While this was occurring, a second group would approach the camp, taking out as many guards as possible by stealth and creating another diversion if necessary, enough to give Jim time to set a small amount of explosive in the ammunition and fuel caches. He was confident that they would be easy to locate, thanks to Maipuri’s detailed description of the camp’s layout, and their very nature meant that only a relatively small explosion would be needed to set them off, and that in itself should be enough to virtually obliterate the whole camp.

Of course, timing was of the essence if they weren’t to be caught up in the blast, and at that point Blair voiced his concern about otherwise innocent native labourers who may well have been coerced into working for the smugglers. He was well aware that as far as the more prosaic Chopec were concerned, they were merely collateral damage, but Blair couldn’t see it like that, and argued for some provision to be made to at least give them some warning and a chance to escape. He had rather naively assumed that Jim would be backing him up in his request, but he was to be sadly mistaken. As a professional soldier, Jim was of a similar mind to the Chopec. Casualties among the workers were unfortunate, but likely, and in his opinion, the end results justified the means.

Yes, he would prefer to get them out if he could, but his duty was to his own men and his government, and there was no place or provision for Blair’s soft-hearted humanitarianism. He knew his gentle guide was going to be hurt and upset, but they simply didn’t have the means or the people to carry out more than a fairly crude sneak attack and get out as quickly as possible.

He wasn’t surprised then when Blair, red-faced and almost in tears of frustration and hurt, shut down and sat out the last stages of the meeting in sulky silence, knowing that Jim no longer needed his translation skills because the operation was apparently a done deal.

When the meeting broke up, Jim was anxious to accompany Toma and Arak to begin preparing the Chopec warriors for the upcoming attack. He had picked up a reasonable smattering of Quechua by now, and as Toma had also a smattering of English, picked up mostly from Blair, he thought he could probably muddle through without Blair’s help until more complicated issues concerning tactics arose. However, he was loath to leave without making his peace with Blair first, but he was to be disappointed.

Seething with the perceived injustice of the situation and his bitter humiliation at not being able to convince his sentinel to even consider his point of view, Blair was in no mood to be placated. He therefore hurried back to their hut, only to be intercepted by Incacha, who physically blocked his path. Placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders, the shaman held him firmly while he met Blair’s distressed and angry gaze.

“Please, Incacha, let me be. I’m in no mood for conversation, and I don’t want to upset you with my bad temper and rudeness. Right now I just want to be alone for a while.”

The other man merely offered him a gentle smile, understanding and sympathy in his wise dark eyes, but there was steel in his gaze too.

“You are angry, Little Shaman, and have some cause to be, but there are more important things I need to discuss with you. It is time you heard and understood what you are, and what you should be to your sentinel. I would have preferred to have had more time in which to explain and let you grow comfortable with my words, but with this attack likely to happen so soon we have no time for delicacy.

“Come with me now, and I shall tell you what I have foreseen,” and his manner and voice were too compelling for Blair to resist, so he allowed himself to be led back to Incacha’s hut.

And what he learned there was enough to set his world on its head.

\------------------------------

**Later that day, Jim and Blair’s hut:**

Sitting cross-legged on a woven floor mat Blair frowned at the rigid muscles of Jim’s back where the sentinel stood staring fixedly out of the hut, arms folded, and stonily silent. Anger and denial were telegraphed in every twitch of the muscle jumping in Jim’s jaw as he ground his teeth in frustration, controlling himself only with extreme difficulty from grabbing his errant guide and shaking him until his teeth rattled.

Blair’s own expression was one of deep disappointment, mutinous, silent and sullen; hurt almost oozing out of every pore at Jim’s vehement dismissal of everything Blair had tried to explain to him.

Jim simply couldn’t believe that his guide could possibly be taking Incacha’s words seriously, despite a tiny, niggling voice deep in his own conscience insisting that it was he who was in denial.

When Blair had left him after the meeting was done, Jim had wanted to follow him to make sure the young man was at least intent on returning to their hut rather than storming off by himself in a huff, perhaps getting himself into trouble as his sense of direction in the dense jungle was less than dependable. He was grateful therefore when he saw Incacha halt the angry guide and take him into his care for a while, allowing Jim to concentrate on the Chopec warriors who were awaiting his input.

He had deliberately turned down his sense of hearing, not wanting to intrude on Blair and Incacha’s privacy, but now he wished he had kept listening, then perhaps he could have nipped the conversation in the bud before Blair could be influenced by the older shaman’s troublesome tales.

Once Jim had finished his business with the warriors for the time being, he had hurried back to their hut, wanting to make certain Blair had forgiven him, and also to discuss less contentious aspects of the upcoming venture. Although confident of his own planning and leadership ability, he valued the younger man’s insight and intelligence, knowing that Blair often thought ‘outside the box’, coming up with good ideas and alternative options. Practice strategic planning exercises with their team even over the few weeks they had had together had frequently left his men shaking their heads in reluctant admiration for the apparently off-the-wall suggestions that in fact made a whole lot of sense.

On entering the hut, he had been thrilled and relieved to see his beloved guide almost vibrating with excitement and energy, a beaming smile of welcome on his face and plainly bursting with the need to enlighten his sentinel about everything he had been told by Incacha. However, there was also an underlying layer of anxiety which should have warned Jim that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

And he wasn’t wrong.

Wrapping his senses around the man seated behind him, Jim knew without turning his head that Blair was deeply distressed. His breathing hitched, and a touch of saline hinted at incipient tears of hurt and frustration, only held at bay by pure willpower. He felt a pang of guilt at being the cause for Blair’s pain, but couldn’t bring himself to change his mind or his attitude. He just knew that nothing good could come of Incacha’s words. All they had done was inflame Blair’s academic curiosity and impossible desires. There was simply no way Blair was a shaman, whatever the Chopec wise man claimed. Hell, hadn’t Blair said so himself just a couple of days ago? He claimed to be nothing special – had no calling that he knew of – so where the hell did that notion come from?

And Jim really hated any mention of that spiritual shit. No way did he want nor need a spirit animal, and Blair didn’t need one either. But apparently they had one each, whether wanted or not, and now Blair claimed to have seen them, courtesy of a vision guided by Incacha!

Brimming over with glee, Blair had told Jim of his big, blue-eyed timber wolf, and had continued excitedly to describe Jim’s black panther, or melanistic jaguar, to be more accurate.

No way. No _way_ did Jim accept that. Or admit that he had occasionally glimpsed such a creature through the undergrowth, slinking along close by on the hunt. It was pure coincidence. Only natural in the jungle environment, and not to be given any special significance.

And he steadfastly refused to admit that Blair’s wolf was anything more than a figment of his guide’s imagination. Mere wishful thinking on the impressionable young man’s part, since wolves weren’t even native to the rainforest.

It was all nonsense, and he didn’t need his guide distracted by such crap.

So why did he feel guilty all of a sudden?

He suddenly knew he needed to get away for a while before he could hurt Blair even more, so without turning his head, he growled, “I’m going for a walk, Sandburg. I need to clear my head, and when I get back, I don’t want to hear any more about Incacha’s shit, OK?” and so saying, he strode out of the hut without looking back for fear that actually seeing his guide’s distraught face might weaken his resolve.

Once Jim had left the hut, Blair’s shoulders slumped, and his chin fell to his chest as he finally allowed a few tears to leak from beneath his closed eyelids.

He should have known what Jim’s reaction would be. Should have realised that the older man had neither time nor inclination for anything even vaguely spiritual, even when it was shoved under his very nose. But to be fair, that was exactly what Incacha had warned him about. When he had confided his belief that Blair was indeed the powerful nascent shaman of his visions, he had also said that Blair’s journey would be a hard one, fraught with danger and possible death, not least because he would have to fight for his sentinel’s understanding and acceptance.

But he had also told Blair that he had foreseen their coming, and had explained that he believed Jim was the reincarnation of Enqueri, a Chopec sentinel and hero of legend, who appeared when the tribe had needed him most. That Enqueri had also been accompanied by a bonded shaman guide, and between them, the pair had been one of the strongest ever seen before or since.

What had become of them, Incacha didn’t say, apart from the fact that one day, once the danger had passed, the pair disappeared into the forest again as silently as they had arrived, never to be seen again.

Realistically, Blair supposed that Jim had the right of it. There was no place for spirit guides in the modern world, and he was being hopelessly ingenuous in even considering it.

But it was so enticing – so appealing to the anthropologist in him, and also to the little boy who had always wanted to be something special.

Sighing deeply, he scrubbed at his eyes, resolutely blinking back his tears as he resolved to put aside his daydreams and concentrate on playing his part as Jim’s guide and backup in the upcoming operation. It was what he had signed up for after all, even though under duress.

\---------------------------------

**Two days later:**

Jim covertly watched his guide as Blair bent over his pack, assiduously checking yet again that he had all the remaining medical supplies in good order, unhappily certain that they would be needed only too soon once the operation got underway. Jim’s frown deepened as he checked his own pack of explosives and weapons for the umpteenth time, painstakingly stripping down and cleaning the automatic rifle and two handguns he’d been able to salvage from the wrecked aircraft. He lamented the lack of ammunition available, knowing he’d have to make every shot count, but hoped that it would be enough to complete the mission as long as it was supplemented by Chopec weapons. He had no worries about the Chopec warriors’ skills in that department at least.

As he worked, he thought over the last couple of days, concern now replacing the frown as he contemplated how things had changed between him and his guide, unhappily aware that it was mostly down to his own intransigence.

After Jim had returned from his walk, having burned off his anger and frustration to a great extent, he had found Blair lying on their pallet, subdued and quiet. The smaller man had plainly been crying, judging by the remnants of tear tracks on his face and the scent of saline in the air, but was calm enough now, his expression one of resignation as he turned to acknowledge Jim’s entrance.

Blair had said not another word about their argument, keeping conversation polite, general and almost formal, their easy camaraderie apparently a thing of the past. He had carried out his duties without complaint, working with Jim and the Chopec as necessary and keeping his grief to himself. To outward appearances as far as most of the villagers were concerned, he was as before; helpful, kind and pleasant, but Incacha knew differently, as did Toma and Arak. The inner sparkle and enthusiasm so recently reawakened was gone, buried deep under a layer of disappointment and disillusion as Blair sought to protect himself against further hurt, immersing himself in mundane but necessary tasks.

These three watched Blair with varying degrees of the same emotions – worry, protectiveness and empathy for him and his silent pain, but like Jim they had all decided that now was not the time to interfere and possibly make matters worse. The time for reconciliation and understanding would come after the mission was done. Only Incacha knew that the outcome of the mission had the potential to destroy the young man completely, and in so doing, his sentinel also. Because of this knowledge, he kept his distance for the time being, but continued to watch both men carefully, his eyes reflecting both sorrow and indignation at their uneasy truce.

As for Jim, he deeply regretted the strained atmosphere between them, knowing that it was up to him to make the first move to set things right. Blair simply didn’t have the self-confidence to stand up to his sentinel and force him to take notice. But he still found it so hard to accept Incacha’s words, and bitterly resented how much they had affected his guide. They still slept in each other’s arms, and Blair still worked with him, honing his senses and translating for him as he studied and interacted with the Chopec, but there was an almost tangible barrier between them now and Jim found more often than not that their fledgling empathic link was closed to him. And they hadn’t bonded fully since their argument, as Jim was pretty sure his advances wouldn’t be welcome under the circumstances and he never wanted to feel as if he had coerced his guide into agreeing to sex out of duty alone.

If Jim had but known it, Blair was suffering from his own share of guilt, having immediately shouldered a substantial amount of the blame for their partial estrangement himself. Yes, he thought Jim was being unnecessarily closed-minded in regard to investigating the intriguing possibilities offered by this new facet of their partnership, but he put that down to the sentinel’s innate wary and suspicious nature being honed and augmented to an even greater degree through years of regimentation and military culture. Add to that a hefty dose of protectiveness and an over-developed sense of duty and Blair could understand why Jim automatically eschewed anything approaching esoteric and arcane. As an intensely physical man, Jim needed an organic or concrete target or enemy to subdue or destroy and he was plainly unnerved by something as insubstantial but potentially damaging as his guide’s psychological distress.

However, despite his sincere attempt at objective rationalisation and honest self-analysis, Blair had been too deeply wounded to pretend that nothing was wrong between them, so instead he did his best to compromise by simply retreating into himself until the opportunity presented itself for them to address the subject again. If indeed they ever did. And he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on that prospect, or his depression would know no bounds.

This then was the state of affairs between sentinel and guide when a messenger arrived at the village with the news they had all been waiting for with such eager anticipation.

\------------------------------

**On the move:**

Within the hour, the warrior groups were assembled and ready to go, having learned that the next shipment was indeed on its way and due to cross into Chopec territory in half a day from now. The group assigned to ambush that party was to be led by Apu, ably assisted by Toma and Arak, whilst the second group, led by Jim and Blair and guided by Maipuri would make their way directly to the cartel’s depot, to wait there until the opportunity arose to set the explosives. Although Jim was as ever loath to put his guide at risk, he knew that Blair would insist on backing up his sentinel, and any attempt to leave him behind would most likely see him attempting the trip on his own, which was entirely unacceptable. And despite his uneasiness as regards Incacha’s influence, Jim nevertheless welcomed the shaman’s insistence that he accompany them under the guise of watching over his wannabe protégé.

If anyone could persuade Blair to stay safe wherever possible, it would be Incacha, and for that reason at least, Jim found a measure of gratitude.

The two groups set out together, but soon parted company as they pursued their set objectives. Apu’s party had to cross the Apurimac gorge in order to intercept the pedestrian drug smugglers, while Jim’s group headed North West to the compound. Both groups were well aware of the need for haste, and pushed on determinedly, driven by their desire for justice and vengeance.

As Jim forged ahead in the vanguard, Blair plodded stoically alongside Incacha, grateful for the man’s silent companionship as he forced his weary legs to keep moving, determined not to slow down and delay the warriors bringing up the rear. Knowing that there was no need for him to keep lookout with so many seasoned warriors surrounding him, he allowed himself to seek that calm place at his centre and eased into it, separating mind from body and allowing his thoughts to roam free while his physical self functioned on automatic pilot for as long as necessary.

Barely pausing for the opportunity to drink and refresh themselves, after many hours the party finally slowed down, and Blair came back to himself to see that the scenery was gradually changing, the rainforest beginning to thin out as they approached the compound. At a sign from Jim, the group halted and gathered around, knowing that stealth was paramount, and needing to confirm the final details of their disposition before and during the attack.

While the main party waited more or less patiently depending upon the individual, Jim, Maipuri and two other warriors reconnoitred the area, and Jim was pleased to learn that Maipuri’s description of the camp’s layout had been pretty much on the nail.   Although he would have preferred to have Blair’s physical touch while he was doing his reconnaissance, his guide’s relative proximity was enough to ground him as he scouted the area, noting the number and position of the guards on duty as well as checking out the actual workshops and drugs and weapons stores. Finally satisfied with his findings, he and his companions hurried back to the main group to share their information, and await the hoped-for distraction caused by those in the camp being alerted to the attack on their latest incoming shipment.

Hunkering down as he drew a rough plan in the dirt to demonstrate where he wanted the Chopec warriors to secrete themselves in readiness for the attack, Jim was pleased when Blair quietly took his place beside him, and offered the young man a small smile of appreciation before continuing with his explanation. Although his Quechua was improving daily, it was a relief to have his guide’s expertise when it came to outlining the finer details of the plan. It was only when Blair asked about the whereabouts of the workers when the mood deteriorated again.

“Look Sandburg – Blair,” Jim responded in exasperation, knowing where the young man’s interest lay. “We’ve been through this already. If it’s any consolation to you, the workshop and workers’ accommodations, such as they are, are far enough away from the arms and drugs caches so that they have a fair chance of making their getaway when the explosions occur, OK? It’s as good as I can do, and I have no intention of putting any of our lives at risk trying to give them a heads up.

“Just let it go, OK?” and he turned back to Maipuri, who was trying to attract his attention to clarify a point on another related topic.

Lips thinned in frustrated anger, Blair held his peace, but Jim’s obduracy strengthened his resolve to take action himself if that was the only option left to him. He had no intention of doing anything that could risk sabotaging the operation, but he simply couldn’t live with the knowledge that innocents could be caught up in the inferno when a moment’s advance warning might have given them an opportunity to escape. And if he should perish in the attempt, well, he was certainly the least important member of the force as far as fighting skills were concerned, so he wouldn’t be missed.

Except by his sentinel, that was.

And at the moment, despite his breadth of knowledge on the subject, he was no longer convinced that Jim couldn’t manage without him whatever current teaching would have you believe. Major Ellison was back in command of both himself and the situation, apparently reverting with ease to the pre-bonded state he had maintained successfully for so long before Blair arrived on the scene.

As it turned out, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

\--------------------------

**Into action:**

Shortly after, the group dispersed silently to take up their allotted positions, and Blair automatically once again followed Jim. However, within striking range of the camp, Jim turned to his guide, face stern and uncompromising as he ordered Blair to stay put.

“This is far enough, Blair. I’ll be fine as long as you’re here, so don’t worry about me. I don’t need you in my space while I’m setting the explosives. In fact, it’s far better that you stay put because then I won’t have to worry about you. I’m sure Incacha will keep an eye on you, so take care, and see you soon,” and with no more than a face-pat and a brief grin, he melted away into the surrounding landscape with the smoothness and agility of the jaguar who was his spirit guide, unwanted or not.

Blair swallowed hard as his hurt and indignation at his sentinel’s summary dismissal threatened to overwhelm him for a moment, then his face hardened as he stiffened his spine. Turning to Incacha, who had watched the interchange impassively, he murmured, “I’m sorry, Incacha, but you know what I want - need – to do. I swear I have no intention of jeopardising the mission, but I wouldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t at least try to save the workers. Please explain to Jim if I don’t make it back?”

The older man reached out and gripped Blair’s forearm, holding his gaze as he replied firmly, “I understand, young one. It is in your nature to help and heal rather than destroy, and I understand that. But I would be failing in my duty as your mentor if I didn’t warn you that you are placing yourself – and your sentinel – in danger. Your trial is about to commence, and only you can decide how you should face up to it. But I shall be here, Little Shaman, watching and waiting for your return.”

Nodding in acceptance of the older man’s words, Blair smiled briefly then slipped away, glad that at least he had daylight to aid his progress and hoping that Jim would be concentrating too much on his objectives to be distracted by his guide’s unauthorised activity.

\----------------------

**Jim:**

Jim quickly reached his chosen hideaway, settling down to watch and wait for the opportunity to move in and set his explosive charges. He was confident that his Chopec comrades were equally well-concealed, each targeting the perimeter guards with every intention of felling all of them with silent but deadly poison darts. All they needed now was patience, because Jim was certain that Apu’s ambush would have the desired effect and send the camp’s overseers into furious panic mode.

He didn’t dare distract himself with thoughts of Blair at this time, knowing that he needed every bit of his concentration and focus on the job in hand, so he deliberately tuned out the beloved heartbeat and scent until he required it, believing – totally mistakenly – that Blair would do as ordered and stay safe in Incacha’s care.

The wait seemed both interminable yet incongruously no time at all until a shout went up from the command centre of the encampment. A distraught and angry figure emerged, yelling in Spanish to everyone in the vicinity that an emergency radio message had come in and that the shipment was under threat and that ‘Mendoza was fighting for his life’ against unseen attackers. Galvanised into action, several other figures emerged, at least one of whom was plainly in authority, and at his orders, the men piled into two trucks, apparently intent on getting as close as possible to the attack site before having to resort to travelling on foot.

Smiling grimly and trusting that his comrades were reacting simultaneously as planned, Jim swiftly broke cover, incidentally noting at least two of the nearby guards drop to the ground, silent and unmoving as the Chopec darts took their toll. He made his way directly to the large buildings just within the compound, his wire-cutters making short work of the outer fencing. With all senses on alert, he scurried over to the locked doors, taking a moment to drop an unsuspecting guard on the way. The man never knew what hit him as Jim seized him from behind, gripping his head and twisting it savagely, breaking his neck and throwing him aside as he continued unchallenged to his destination.

The locks were no match for Jim’s expertise, and opened quickly at his touch, leaving him free to seek out the optimum location for his small supply of explosives. The large building had been sectioned off, partly for the storage of weapons and ammunition and the other half as a secure containment area for the finished drugs.   The raw product was presumably stashed nearer the workshop area, but Jim wasn’t too concerned about that at the moment. Instead, he located the most effective spots in which to set his devices, carefully adjusting the detonators and timers to give him and his comrades enough time to make their escape. With one last comprehensive look around the building’s interior, he set the charges and exited the way he had come, signalling for the hidden Chopec warriors to follow him.   As he re-entered the relative safety of the surrounding foliage, he noted with satisfaction that all the other men had returned with him, only to be instantly distracted by a commotion at the far side of the compound.

And he knew exactly what had caused that commotion.   _Shit, Hell and Damnation!_ It was Blair. It had to be. His goddamned noble, stupid, soft-hearted and beloved guide had acted on impulse – _again_ – and had endangered himself whilst trying to save the workers. _Damn it to Hell!_

But before he could react, a huge explosion threw them all to the ground, and at least half of the compound was engulfed in flames as the storage facility went up, a series of continuous if smaller explosions signalling the chain reaction as the ammunition dump ignited.

The mission was a complete success. Except that his guide was missing, possibly KIA.

\------------------------------

**Blair:**

Once he was sure that Jim and the other warriors were in position and concentrating on their roles in the upcoming attack, Blair had circled around as quickly as possible to the far side of the compound where Jim had told him that the workers’ accommodation and workshops were situated. He knew he didn’t have much time in which to act, not wanting to alert any of the guards prematurely, but was certain that if he moved in at the same time as Jim as soon as the hoped-for diversion occurred, he could at least initiate a getaway just before the explosion, as every second could mean the difference between safety or death for the workers. Almost vibrating with nervous anticipation, he forced himself to take stock of the nearest access point, which appeared to be a side gate behind the garaging and parking area close to the crude dormitory building. It was locked and guarded, but he prayed that the man would move away when the diversion occurred, which would give him the opportunity to climb the timber and wire obstacle and make his way to the dormitory. Grinning wryly, he knew that the few weeks’ physical training he had undergone at the Unit would stand him in good stead, since he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have a chance of clearing the gate successfully at his previous level of fitness.

It seemed like forever until he was alerted to the flurry of activity taking place at the operations centre at the opposite side of the compound from where he crouched, ready to spring into action. He held his breath while the alarm was given, ducking down when two of the trucks were swiftly started up and driven to the area near the main gate where several heavily-armed men jumped aboard, presumably on their way to aid the ambushed party. He thought that the gods must have been smiling on him as the guard on the gate deserted his post for a moment and hurried over to the command centre to see what the commotion was all about. Seizing the opportunity with gratitude, Blair hurried over to the gate in a crouching run, taking a flying leap at the gate and scurrying up the wire like a monkey, to drop down on the other side unseen for the present.

He quickly make his way over to the dormitory building, keeping under cover as much as possible behind parked trucks and the garage and workshops, slipping in through the nearest side door. Blinking to let his eyes adjust to the comparative darkness within, he looked around quickly, to see several pairs of sad but wary eyes gazing at him from rough cots and pallets lined up against the walls in the long, low and windowless room. The workers were all natives from local tribes as far as he could make out; male and female, mostly either young, little more than children, or elderly adults. However, there was no time for prolonged study, and he spoke rapidly in Quechua, holding a finger to his lips to indicate they remain silent.

“There will be an attack here very soon. If you want to live, follow me. We have to get away from here as quickly as possible. Don’t stop to collect anything, just come!”

The urgency in his voice and manner clearly convinced most of them of his veracity, and they got to their feet, looking to him to lead the way out of the building. He cracked open the door, and checked that most of the guards were still distracted and concentrating on the activity surrounding the would-be rescue party. Knowing he had no chance of getting to the workshop to warn anyone still inside, he swallowed his disappointment, and concentrated on saving the ones accompanying him. He knew the explosion was imminent, so he slipped out of the door, ushering the workers out after him.

“Run!” he hissed. “Make for the main gates. It’s your best chance while the guards are distracted. And there will be a big explosion very soon. You have to run, now!” and he took off, praying that they would follow his lead. Glancing back over his shoulder, he was mightily relieved to see that they were indeed taking him seriously, and the small party moved as swiftly as possible to the main gates, slipping though after the departing trucks, and running for the cover of the surrounding forest. Blair heard angry shouts behind them as their escape was noted, but the roar of a huge explosion blotted out the sounds, and he threw himself to the ground within the cover of the trees, looking back over his shoulder at the ruination occurring behind him.

He felt almost overwhelmed by the sheer scale of destruction in flattened and burning buildings, and despite his horror on behalf of anyone caught in the blast, whether criminal or not, he felt a small frisson of pride in Jim’s capability. The Unit would surely be satisfied by a job well done despite the odds.

He was distracted momentarily by a hand clasping his shoulder, and he looked up to see the lined face of one of the older men in the group of refugees.

“Thank you, my son,” he said in Quechua. “Take care of yourself. We will be safe now,” and he nodded and patted Blair’s shoulder again before re-joining the others, and with grateful smiles, the motley group melted into the undergrowth, soon lost to Blair’s sight as they made their escape.

Blair sat up, smiling in relief, gratitude and no little emotion at the success of his undertaking, even if he was aware that he hadn’t been able to warn them all. He had done his best, and would have to be satisfied with that. He climbed to his feet, and dusted off his pants, thoughts now turning to how he was going to explain his actions to Jim, knowing for sure that his sentinel was going to be more than a little mad at him. He was therefore completely unprepared for the large, angry and blood-stained man approaching from behind him. A man who had managed to escape the worst of the blast and who was now bent on wreaking revenge on this young punk before joining with his surviving comrades to see what they could salvage from the wrecked compound.

Blair yelped in surprise as a giant hand clasped the back of his neck, shocked as a harsh voice growled in Spanish in his ear and foul-smelling breath assaulted his nostrils.

“You little rat! You and your bastard friends are going to pay for this outrage. Beginning with you! This is going to hurt, little rat…” and he shook Blair hard, his other hand lifting to encircle the young man’s neck. However, frightened as he undoubtedly was, Blair had had a little training now to fall back on, and he instinctively reacted, stamping on the man’s foot at the same time as driving his elbow hard into his gut. The man’s hold loosened fractionally as he grunted in surprise and pain, and Blair twisted agilely out from his grasp, turning to run for his life. But he didn’t get far. A heavy blow between his shoulder blades sent him staggering as the big man threw a large rock at him, the impetus carrying him over the edge of a concealed gulley, at the bottom of which ran a fast-flowing stream – a tributary of the Apurimac River, if Blair had but known it.

But Blair had no time to think of anything but the sickening sensation of falling as he crashed and rolled down the steep slope, robbed of consciousness as his unprotected head cracked against a boulder, and he rolled face-first into the icy waters of the stream.

His attacker stood at the edge of the gulley, peering down into the depths below, a sneer of evil satisfaction on his face. The punk kid was as good as dead, and he spat dismissively into the void.   _No more than the little shit deserved_ he thought as he turned away, fury still simmering as he considered his uncertain future now that the cartel’s compound was no more.

\---------------------------------

Still reeling from the shock of discovering his guide was missing, Jim spun around when his arm was seized in a firm grasp as an anxious and angry Incacha materialised beside him. Meeting the shaman’s compelling gaze, he stammered, “Wh…what is it? What do you know?”

Shaking Jim’s arm impatiently, the other man hissed, “Your guide needs you, sentinel. Now! Come with me, or it will be too late! I have seen it!”

Without a backward glance at the others, who followed his departure with curious and worried eyes, Jim hurried after Incacha, not even questioning the desperate urgency in the man’s demeanour and the speed of his progress.

It still felt like far too long before Jim skidded to a halt beside Incacha, who had stopped on the edge of a steep gulley. And at the bottom, Jim had no trouble at all in spotting the sprawled body of his guide, face-down in the rushing water, no sound coming from the beloved heart.

Exchanging mute glances, both men immediately tackled the descent to the stream below, slipping and sliding over the mud and rocks until Jim was able to reach down and roll Blair’s body onto its back. His guide’s skin was icy, and his lips blue and cold as Jim set his own mouth over them, breathing air into the water-filled lungs. Settling himself in for the duration, Jim continued with the breathing, interspersed with chest compressions as he willed his lover to wake.

“Come on. Come _on,_ baby! You can’t leave me! I need you, Blair! I love you!” the desperate litany was repeated over and over as he fought for Blair’s life, but it seemed that he was too late, and his efforts were in vain. Tears streaming unchecked down his face, he swung round to face Incacha, who stood by, watching over the proceedings, face impassive as ever.

“Do something! He can’t die. He can’t! Why would you bring me here so urgently if Blair was really dead? There must be something I can do…” and Jim pleaded unashamedly for help, knowing that he had nothing more to give.

“You _do_ have more to give, Enqueri,” Incacha said, apparently reading Jim’s mind. “You can save the young one if you are prepared to accept the full bond. The bond that encompasses the physical and the spiritual. The bond the young one tried to show you. You have it within you to save your guide, but it must be quick, and you must accept the power of your spirit guide for what it is. Choose well, sentinel. Your guide’s life and your own depends on your choice.”

And suddenly Jim knew what to do. There was no question of reconsidering as he cupped Blair’s cold cheeks in his large, warm palms. “I’m ready, Chief. Come back to me. Whatever you need, baby…” and he was transported into a blue-tinted jungle, amazed to see a sleek black jaguar staring at him in anger and impatience. Frowning, he followed the big cat’s gaze as the animal looked away from him, to see a beautiful silver timber wolf with Blair’s blue eyes walking slowly away from them, looking backwards over its shoulder as it went, expression unbearably sad but resigned.

“No! No! You can’t go, Chief. I love you! Come back!” and he held his breath, willing the animal to turn back with every ounce of his strength.

And it did. The wolf stopped, irresolute for a moment as it looked forwards towards the bright light that beckoned it from afar, then back to where Jim and the jaguar stood side by side, love and need reflected in their gazes.

And then it was running. Running back towards them, and the black jaguar was running too. And they leapt at the same instant, and merged in a flash of blinding light as the spirit guides became as one; two souls joining again as they always had and always would. Two halves of an incredible whole.

And suddenly Jim was back at the river’s edge, and he could see the blue glow between his hands where they cupped Blair’s face. Jim heard the soft but reassuring thump as the beloved heart began to beat again, and with a whooping, gasping breath, Blair coughed once, twice, and brought up what seemed like gallons of water as Jim rolled him quickly onto his side.

Rubbing and patting his guide’s soaking back, Jim looked up to meet Incacha’s smiling gaze. His own smile was tremulous but sincere, and he wept openly as he murmured, “Thank you. Thank you, Shaman.” There really was nothing more to say.

\--------------------------

**Part 8: Aftermath:**

The journey back to the Chopec village was considerably slower than the outward one, since Blair had to be carried back on a crudely-constructed but adequate stretcher. Although he had apparently returned very determinedly from the dead, he was feverish from the effects of the microbes in the water, and floated in and out of consciousness, the blow to his head having left him with a debilitating concussion. Jim was heartily grateful for Incacha’s solicitous and constant attention, but felt inadequate under the circumstances; certain that the most effective healing could only begin once Blair was back in his hut, under his care and surveillance. The guide’s sickness was far deeper than that caused by the physical attack on his person. The worst injury was one of the soul. One caused by Jim’s refusal to acknowledge the true depth of their mating, and it was the bond that had the power to reverse that damage.

And Jim was aware now that only he could choose to put it right.

Either that, or watch his guide die irrevocably of a broken heart, with him undoubtedly following in short order unless he had the courage to grasp the gift offered to him. The gift of Blair’s unconditional love.

And Jim had no intention of refusing that treasure. He was ready. He just needed to get Blair back into his own territory so he could begin to reverse the damage done by his intransigence.

\--------------------------

When the party arrived at the village, they were met first by Luisa and two other older female helpers, who had made the best preparations they could for the injured guide. Yepe had gone on ahead to warn them of the party’s imminent arrival, and had also apprised them of both the success of the attack, and the extent of their casualties, which basically amounted to Blair. One other warrior had received minor injuries from flying debris from the explosion, but otherwise they were all unhurt, which was undoubtedly a cause for celebration. The other group had returned earlier, and they also had had no fatalities although Apu had received a deep crease from a stray bullet on the outside of his thigh, and two other warriors had significant bruises and abrasions from hand-to-hand fighting.

Naturally their reception by the rest of the tribe was one of joy and adulation, but there was no one among them who would have rejoiced at Blair’s pain. The young guide had made a lasting impression on them, and his care and welfare was of paramount importance to them.

Jim nodded distractedly as he was greeted and congratulated by the villagers, but his focus was on the delirious figure on the stretcher, and he made it very obvious that he needed his lover settled comfortably in his hut without delay.

As Jim carefully lifted Blair and settled him gently onto the fur-lined pallet, Incacha and Luisa watched and waited patiently until he was ready to acknowledge them and check out the provisions the women had laid out for his use. He was pleased and grateful to note the fresh water and fruit as well as carefully chosen herbs destined for both ingestion by his guide to combat his fever and others to be used to treat the ugly knot on his head where he had collided with the boulder on his way down into the gulley.

Offering them both a rather watery smile, Jim thanked them for their concern, but stressed that he needed to reconnect with his guide in private. Although he would undoubtedly welcome their help when necessary, he was determined to care for Blair himself as much as he could, needing to reassure himself of the young man’s physical improvement as well as the necessity of re-establishing their partnership and convincing Blair that he really was trying to meet his guide half way.

\-----------------------------

**Following morning:**

Hours later, and Jim was nearing despair as he fought to save his guide. Despite Jim’s acceptance of their link after the merging of their animal spirits, Blair didn’t seem to be improving physically as Jim had fondly expected him to, assuming that the rapid healing he himself enjoyed would now manifest in his bonded partner. He had tenderly washed and cleaned Blair’s body, dressing the head wound and spending hours sponging down the heated skin as Blair tossed and turned, gripped by delirium as the fever took hold. The smaller man remained stubbornly unconscious, even though he had at one point woken briefly, to Jim’s short-lived delight. However, when Blair opened his eyes, they had been glazed and fever-bright above the hectic flush of his cheeks, and when they tracked restlessly around the hut for a few moments, there was no sign of recognition when they passed over Jim’s anxious face. Although the fever had broken near dawn, Blair seemed no better, and Jim had him propped up to relieve the pressure on the embattled lungs as the life-giving air struggled wetly to fill them. Jim had managed to get liquid into his guide, patiently coaxing water down Blair’s throat, drop by precious drop, but his determination and confidence in himself to treat and heal his own guide was sorely shaken by the lack of progress. He was therefore much more amenable to the prospect of help when Toma and Arak, accompanied by Incacha, quietly entered the hut, deferentially requesting to speak with him.

Although Incacha spoke little or no English, Toma’s smattering of the language added to Jim’s own grasp of rudimentary Quechua was enough for the men to communicate the older shaman’s message and request to Jim.

“Enqueri, Incacha wishes to offer you advice on the treatment of the young shaman. He says he does not wish to anger you, but if the young one is to recover, it will take more than care on the earthly plane. He asks that you accompany him on a spirit walk, so that he may explain what you should know about the young guide, and how to proceed. Will you accept his offer?”

And at that point, Jim was willing to try anything if it meant saving the most precious person in the world to him, and consequently his own life, not that that was his primary concern. Without Blair, he had no wish to live.

“Tell Incacha thank you, and I am ready to do anything to save my guide,” and Jim met the older shaman’s gentle but resolute gaze, making no attempt to hide his anxiety and pleading mutely and unashamedly for aid.

Nodding in acquiescence and gratification, Incacha smiled softly and beckoned Jim over to sit opposite him, each taking one of Blair’s hands as Toma and Arak quietly left them alone in the hut, silently communicating their hope and support as the two men began their fight to save their young friend’s life.

After chanting softly for a few moments, Incacha released Blair’s hand and reached for the jar of water, pouring a little into the drinking bowl. Adding a handful of herbs from the pouch at his waist, he swilled the mixture around, then offered the bowl to Jim, indicating that he drink. While even twenty-four hours previously Jim wouldn’t have entertained the idea of sampling unknown substances, now he was desperate enough to drink the bitter liquid without demur, handing back the bowl so that Incacha could drain the remainder.

And it seemed mere seconds before he found himself once more in that oddly blue-tinted jungle, standing opposite Incacha, who had a silver timber wolf sitting quietly at his side, the animal’s wise but sad blue eyes proof that Jim was looking at Blair’s spirit guide.

Incacha smiled and indicated that Jim sit down with him, saying, “Enqueri, I am glad you have chosen to accept my offer of help and guidance. Here on the spirit plane there is no problem with communication, and I am able to make myself understood without another’s involvement.   What I have to tell you needs no barrier between us, and I ask that you listen to all I have to say.

“If you are prepared to hear, and act upon my words, you will yet save your guide and fulfil the hope and expectations I have had for you both.”

And Jim nodded once, sinking down to sit cross-legged opposite the shaman, eager to learn so he could once again hold his guide in his arms.

Hand reaching out to scratch and caress the fur behind the ears of the wolf that had lain down at his side, Incacha began to speak.

“Chopec legend recalls how an alpha sentinel and guide pair appeared unexpectedly many years ago at our people’s greatest time of need. That sentinel was called Enqueri, and his guide was a shaman of great power. They saved our tribe, but once their duty was done, they disappeared as silently as they came, except that they told the Chopec chief that, if needed, they would return.

“Some years ago, I, as the tribe’s present shaman, had a vision warning me that my people were once more about to come under serious threat, and that I should look for the coming of Enqueri and his guide to aid us. Shortly after, the Young Wolf arrived with his party of fellow students, and I knew immediately that he had much power, even if he did not recognise it. None of the party was allowed to interact with our people, as is Chopec custom, but the young man was permitted to speak to and learn from Toma and Arak.

“And I watched from the outside, needing to know if the prophesy was about to come true.

“I have to tell you, Enqueri, that I was delighted with what I saw. Even if he did not know it then, the young man was born to be a teacher and healer. A true and talented shaman and guide to an alpha sentinel. He but needed to find his sentinel and achieve his destiny.

“But I also saw that he would suffer during his journey. He would be denied and diverted, feeling himself inadequate to the challenge. Yet he persevered, once he had been shown the way, and would have given his all to you. And I believe he already has.

“And despite your initial disbelief and denial, you both were prominent once again in protecting our tribe from great harm. You arrived when the criminals’ power was growing, and have inspired our warriors to react, fight and defeat our enemies.

“But now we come to the crossroads, Enqueri. You have indeed fulfilled the prophesy, and the tribe is once more safe from outside threat, but in the doing, the young shaman has been brought to the brink. His gifts are now truly established by his death and resurrection at your hands, Enqueri, but he will not survive his ordeal without your full support hereafter.

“I know you have accepted the role as his partner and protector. You have even accepted your spirit animals, and their importance to you both.

“But it will be hard for you both if your upbringing prevents you from acknowledging your true bond once you return to the Great City. The city of your birth, and the city where your guide made his home.

“That is where you will both achieve your greatest successes, even though it will not be on the battlefield.

“Your destiny still awaits you, Enqueri, but you will need more than the help we can provide to ensure your guide’s survival. The Young Wolf needs to return to your country. I realise that even with all our combined efforts, the young one’s body is beyond our ability to heal. His spirit is strong, but not strong enough to get through this hurt without Western medicine. And also your continued spiritual support.

“But given these props, he can survive, Enqueri.

“With your unconditional commitment and conviction…”

During Incacha’s recitation, Jim had been almost overwhelmed by the myriad emotions that followed in quick succession at the shaman’s words. Mind working overtime as he tried to process everything he had heard, he stared at the ground in front of his crossed legs for long moments as he formulated his response.

“Thank you, Incacha, for your words of explanation and advice. I can tell that they come from the heart, and carry no artifice or ulterior motive. I freely admit that my instinct is always to question and deny, as my cynicism is deeply ingrained in me. My life so far has given me little reason to adopt naiveté and easy acceptance as a first response to anything new or radically different from my concept of reality.

“But I am prepared to change my outlook. Or at least, try to, for my guide’s sake.

“I realise that Blair has low self-esteem despite his academic achievements, and his treatment by our commanders lowered that self-esteem even more. I tried to help him once we had bonded, but I can see now that I didn’t do enough. Not nearly enough. And when I denied the full spiritual bond, I hurt him even more.

“But when we merged here, on the spiritual plane, our animal spirits showed us the right of it, and I accepted that. I continue to accept that, and rejoice in it, and from now on, I shall put him first for once in his life. I just need to know that he will fight with me for his own life until we can get help from outside.”

Incacha smiled softly, his eyes projecting his sincerity as he replied, even as the wolf by his side raised its head to gaze into Jim’s eyes, its own blue depths holding nothing but trust and love.

“He will fight, Enqueri. And with your help he will win, but it will take time. Your answer tells me that my vision has much hope even if the future is not set in stone. Let us go now, and tend to the young shaman. I feel that he is waking…”

\---------------------------------

When Jim came back to himself, he was seated as before beside Blair’s bed, but the sudden return to reality made him somewhat dizzy, and he was prevented from falling forward across the pallet by a strong hand on his shoulder. Shaking his head muzzily, he heard Incacha’s firm but quiet voice calling him back.

“Wake now, Enqueri. Your guide has returned to his body from where his spirit had been roaming, and he needs your help.”

And just like that, Jim jerked back into full awareness, eyes hungrily studying Blair’s beloved face as he carefully scanned his guide.

Blair’s eyes were open in his pale and exhausted face, but this time there was love and understanding in the smoky blue depths. The faintest of grins tugged at his dry lips as he tried to communicate with his sentinel, desperate to acknowledge the amazing man who had loved him enough to bring him back from the dead. The man to whom he was committed for life.

Grinning with unadulterated relief and gratitude, Jim reached for the weakened body, tenderly lifting and cradling Blair in his arms for long moments until the smaller man moved slightly, tilting his head back as if to speak.

However, he barely whispered “Jim…” before being immediately wracked with a paroxysm of coughing that rattled his frame, and seemed to Jim to last for many minutes. He could hear the fluid in Blair’s lungs, and could do nothing to help except hold and support his guide through the fit, rubbing his back with soothing circles as he crooned nonsense words. The fit finally passed, leaving Blair weak and shaking and Jim unutterably relieved as he carefully laid Blair back down in a semi-reclining position, reaching for the water bowl Incacha handed him wordlessly with a nod of thanks.

Raising the bowl to Blair’s lips, he offered a few sips, all the while encouraging his guide to relax. He knew Blair’s diaphragm would be feeling bruised and battered after a fit like that, just as he also knew that the sick young man would suffer many more of the same before he was well again, and his eyes were moist in sympathy as he coaxed Blair to drink.

“Here you go, Chief. Just a bit more now. Your throat must feel so dry and raw I’m not surprised you coughed when you tried to speak. Wait a while until you feel ready before you try again, OK?”

Nodding slightly, Blair met his gaze, his eyes telegraphing his love and gratitude despite the dullness of pain and suffering.

Settling himself carefully behind his guide with legs splayed to either side so he could hold and support Blair against his chest, Jim continued to offer the water bowl at intervals, but was content to just lie against the furs at his back for as long as Blair needed, silently communicating their love and commitment until Blair fell asleep again; a deep, natural slumber this time with his sentinel on watch over him.

With a nod of approval, Incacha smiled over at Jim and quietly left the hut; content that Blair was in the best hands he could be under the circumstances, but ready to offer his help as soon as needed.

\--------------------------------

Some hours later, Jim was somewhat stiff and uncomfortable from remaining in the same position for so long, but had no desire to move. He was prepared to hold Blair for as long as it took, basking in the warmth and suppleness of the body in his arms and trying to banish the nightmarish images of the same body, cold and wet, which tried to sneak into his consciousness. Blair was alive, and would stay that way, if Jim had anything to do with it.

Just then, Blair twitched a little, a small whimper escaping as he rose gradually to wakefulness, his head pounding and chest sore and painful despite the warmth and comfort offered by the strong body surrounding him with such care.

“Easy, babe,” Jim whispered as he tightened his arms fractionally to prevent Blair from moving too much and straining himself unnecessarily. “Let me get you some painkillers, Chief. I can tell your head’s hurting, and I can hear the tightness in your chest.”

He reached for the medical kit that he had placed within arm’s length, and pulled out the bottle that held their dwindling supply of painkillers. As Blair lacked the strength to even raise his hands to his face, Jim carefully placed two of the precious tablets on Blair’s tongue, and again offered the water bowl to wash them down with.

“There you go, babe. Try and drink a bit more, then I’ll help you get settled again. I expect you could do with that Chopec piss-pot, huh? And perhaps a freshen-up?”

He smiled as he felt Blair nod slightly against his chest and continued to hold the water bowl until Blair indicated he had had enough. Easing out from behind his guide, Jim laid Blair back against the furs and stood, stretching to ease his cramped muscles before fetching the urinal.

“Hey, it’s only fair,” he joked when Blair blushed pink as Jim withdrew and held his lax penis so he could relieve himself. “You had to do the same for me, remember? We take care of each other, babe. Now,” he continued, after putting the bowl outside. “How about I sponge you down some? That should help you feel better.”

Once that had been accomplished, and Jim had even managed to shave his guide, using a tiny amount of their remaining soap supply, Blair was exhausted once again, but his head wasn’t pounding now, the pain reduced to a dull ache thanks to the medication. He therefore determined that he wanted to communicate properly with Jim, even though he was afraid that the attempt would make him cough again.

Despite his laboured breathing, he made a small, experimental sound in his throat, gazing earnestly at Jim as he fluttered his fingers, instantly commanding Jim’s undivided attention.

“Hey, babe. You OK? Did you want to try to speak?” Jim immediately realised what his mate wanted, but didn’t want him to risk sparking another of those awful coughing jags yet.

“Got an idea, Chief. How about, rather than you making yourself cough again, we try to do that spirit plane stuff? Think that would work?”

And he received the most beautiful smile of which Blair was capable, the young man’s love and appreciation for the offer plain to behold.

“OK, then, babe. Let me get comfortable so I can hold you, and let’s do this thing.”

\--------------------------------

Moments later they were both in the jungle clearing again and Jim whistled in appreciation at the figure standing fit, proud and happy before him. Although he was in the same clothing he had worn during the raid – camo pants, vest, boots and bandana – Blair was dressed as a Chopec shaman. He was wearing nothing but a soft leather wraparound skirt that almost reached his knees and his hair was long again as it had been pre-conscription. The shining curls were adorned with beads and feathers, and he sported several bead necklaces and bracelets.   And best of all, his face was wreathed in smiles, glowing with love and healthier than Jim had ever seen it.

“You look amazing, Chief! Just amazing! This is obviously how you should be, and I’m so happy to see it. Is this how we’ll always appear when we do this spirit walk thing, do you think?”

Blair’s grin was wide as he replied, his own eyes full of a similar appreciation as he openly ogled Jim’s buff body.

“Yeah, I think so, man. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but we’ll either be like this, or perhaps in our spirit animal form. And I can’t begin to tell you how much I love you for instigating this trip for my benefit, Jim,” and he bounced on his toes in overt glee.

However, his face sobered as he walked up to Jim, wrapping his arms around the bigger man, and hugging him for long moments as Jim reciprocated, thoroughly enjoying the feel of a fully fit and healthy Blair in his arms. He carefully catalogued everything about the beloved body, allowing his senses to roam freely and soaking up the information; savouring each nuance as he experienced it and content to cuddle his guide and lover for as long as Blair needed.

All too soon as far as Jim was concerned, Blair finally relaxed his hold and moved back slightly in Jim’s arms, enough so he could look up and meet his sentinel’s quizzical gaze. His expression was sombre but sincere as he spoke, his voice deepened by emotion as he tried to convey his love and gratitude.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming for me, Jim. I didn’t want to go, but I thought I had no choice. I believed I had let you down, and that I deserved to die. I was convinced that you would never have denied our spirit bond if I had truly been your destined guide.

“Thank you for caring enough to call me back, and I swear to you that I’ll fight on the earthly plane. I’ll fight with everything I have. I won’t leave you again unless I have to, I promise.”

And Jim was overcome by his own emotions, moved to tears as he pulled the smaller man against him again, holding tight and kissing the curly crown tucked beneath his chin.

“How could I not come for you, babe? I’m so sorry I was so negative – so much in denial – that I hurt you and almost lost you because of it. When Incacha came to tell me what had happened to you, it felt as if my world had come to an end. And it would have, babe, if you hadn’t had the courage to trust me once again and come back.

“But I promise you, Blair, that I’m ready now to accept everything about the bond – at every level. And I also promise you that once we get out of here, I’m resigning my commission, Blair. Incacha showed me that there are other ways in which I can protect the tribe – our tribe – in Cascade. And I want you to go back to Rainier, Chief, where you belong. I don’t want either of us in the line of fire any longer. The Unit can do without us from now on.”

When Blair looked up again at Jim’s heart-felt words, his eyes were almost incandescent with the joy within him. Reaching up, he took Jim’s head in his hands and pulled gently, raising his face to meet Jim’s so that he could claim his sentinel’s mouth.   He kissed Jim for long moments, putting every bit of his love and devotion into the action, and moaning in pleasure as Jim took control of the kiss, and began to worship Blair’s lush mouth for himself. They traded domination back and forth, their love and lust rising; burning hotly until they sank to the ground as one, lips still exchanging kisses as they stretched out alongside each other. In mutual need and understanding, they stripped each other, all the while silent except for the moans and murmurs generated by their growing passion.

Finally, Jim rolled a naked Blair onto his back beneath him, clutching a handful of curls in each hand as he gazed into the heated blue eyes, almost black now as the pupils dilated in lust.

“My Guide! Only mine! No one else will ever take you from me.” The growl was almost feral, and Blair shuddered in eager anticipation at the animalistic sound.

“Your Guide, Sentinel. Only yours. Imprint me, take me. Take me now!”

And there was no way Jim would dream of disobeying that delightful command. Blair’s beautiful body was investigated and imprinted, stroked and stimulated until he thrashed in need, and Jim was so ready to meet that need with his own.

Their coupling was wild and passionate, then slow and loving, until finally they rolled together, sated, but contented and more intimately bound than they could ever have envisaged at their first meeting.

This was the real bond. The bond they were meant to have, and they were both determined not to waste another moment of it.

\--------------------------------

**36 hours later, the Chopec village - Outside Jim and Blair’s hut:**

Despite the promises made in the spirit world, Blair was losing the battle against the pneumonia that was attacking his compromised lungs. Without antibiotics, there was little chance of his survival, although Incacha assured Jim that there was still hope.

“Do not despair yet, Enqueri,” he comforted the distraught man. “The young shaman is still strong in spirit, and will not give up willingly. And you have given him strength, Enqueri. If not for your support, he would have died already.”

“If not for my previous _lack_ of support, he wouldn’t be in this condition!” Jim ground out, guilt and self-directed anger implicit in every word.

Suddenly, the sentinel cocked his head in the classic ‘listening’ pose, and a frown creased his brow as he opened his hearing as widely as he could, grounding himself on the touch of Incacha’s hand instinctively gripping his bicep.

“There’s someone coming. Several ‘someones’, and they’re not all Chopec,” he hissed. Concentrating harder, he finally turned to meet Incacha’s calm but inquisitive gaze.

“I think they’re Unit personnel. I think my prayers might just have been answered. Blair may yet be saved!” and his face twisted in emotion as the older shaman nodded wisely, gripping Jim’s arm in comfort and support.

\--------------------------

When Blair had been brought back to the village, Maipuri and Yepe had immediately offered to trek once again to the mission school to send out a message requesting help. However, knowing how long the journey there and back would normally take, Jim hadn’t held out too much hope that help would be forthcoming any time soon, even if the request was taken seriously. Nevertheless, he appreciated the young Chopecs’ good intentions, and had watched their departure with mixed feelings.

As it turned out, however, Maipuri and Yepe didn’t actually reach the mission before running into a rescue party sent by the Unit as soon as the attack on the compound had been verified. The party’s commander had convinced the Chopec of their veracity by reciting the code words Jim had schooled them in, so they had turned about and made their way back to the village, arriving far sooner than expected and accompanied by a fully-equipped medic.

Since Toma and Arak had left to intercept and study the party as soon as they had been advised of Jim’s information, it was an easy matter for the two sentinels to communicate between themselves, so that by the time the party actually arrived, Apu, Incacha and the elders were gathered to meet them, backed up by many seasoned warriors, and Jim himself.

The group of six made up a typical team within the Unit, although Jim didn’t recognise them. They were preceded by Maipuri and Yepe, and surrounded, albeit relatively unthreateningly as yet, by the other Chopec who had gone out to meet the party. It was clear that several of the men were uncomfortable at the underlying tension, but the commander and his companion had no apparent worries as far as Jim could make out. And they were most definitely a strong sentinel and guide pair.

The Captain was a tall and handsome young man, whose frank and open expression and relaxed demeanour did much to reassure the awaiting Chopec welcoming committee, and his guide – a pretty and vivacious young woman – did the rest as she translated effortlessly for her sentinel.

After greeting Apu and the elders deferentially and flawlessly on her sentinel’s behalf, she turned to Jim and smiled in recognition before handing over to her partner.

Facing Jim, the younger Captain snapped a salute as he said, “Sentinel Major Ellison. Sentinel Captain Marcus Evers at your service, sir. This is my guide, Lieutenant Deborah Walsh, and my team. We are glad to see you alive and well, Major, but I understand your guide is injured? Permission for my medic to see him, sir?”

“Permission granted, Captain Evers, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you! Blair is very sick, and won’t last long unless you can get him stabilised and out of here.”

He noticed that the young female guide’s face reflected more emotion than he would have expected under the circumstances, but had more pressing things on his mind as he showed the medic into the hut, hoping that the man had the skill and wherewithal to save his beloved soulmate.

\----------------------------------

**Epilogue: One year later:**

**Doctor Sandburg’s office, Rainier University, Cascade, WA:**

Blair looked up from the document he was proofing, a beaming smile on his face. Jim was coming, and Blair looked forward to bringing his lover and sentinel up to speed with the latest information regarding the international conference on Sentinel and Guide lore he was instrumental in setting up. Certainly he couldn’t actually hear his lover, as his senses were as normal as ever, but he could still tell that Jim’s arrival was imminent. Since their full bonding, their communication and empathy was greatly enhanced, and they both enjoyed the benefits. The mental link didn’t involve actual telepathy, _per se_ , but they were able to sense each other’s presence and communicate emotions and intentions, so in tune with each other that they often found themselves finishing off each other’s sentences, to the amusement of their friends and acquaintances. Blair’s smile became soft and somewhat wistful as he considered that they now had the sort of symbiotic relationship enjoyed by Toma and Arak, and he wondered how their Chopec friends were faring.

Blair hadn’t been able to contact his friends since his evacuation from the Chopec village almost a year ago, as the tribe had once more sought their privacy and isolation from the outside world, but his thoughts were with them now as he spent a few moments revisiting his and Jim’s stay with them, and considering how much he owed them in so many ways. Without their cooperation, he and Jim could never have completed their mission, and may well have perished in their attempt to hike out of the jungle alone and unaided. They would never have considered the true depth and potential of their own bond without having witnessed the special connection between Toma and Arak, and they certainly couldn’t have achieved it without Incacha’s wisdom and guidance.

And Blair would most certainly be dead, as most likely would Jim be. Although the sentinel might conceivably have survived the loss of his guide, Jim was adamant that he wouldn’t have wanted to, and would undoubtedly have followed Blair by sending himself into a deep zone from which he would never awaken.

And because of their closeness, Blair knew that to be the truth, and found the thought both comforting and troubling. Yes, it was wonderful to know that Jim loved him so deeply that he couldn’t live without him, but troubling also, because he worried now should some unforeseen accident befall him. He wasn’t afraid of death, because he had seen that there was something wonderful awaiting him, but he so didn’t want his lover to die before his time.

But Jim always grinned and hugged him whenever he brought the subject up, comforting and consoling him with his heart-felt declaration.

“Stop worrying, babe. We’re both going to live for years! But if the worst does happen, then I shall be glad to follow wherever you go. I count myself blessed to have found my soulmate, and we will never be parted in this world or the next. We were meant to be together, and that means for better or worse. I believe now that we will always find each other, as long as this world exists.”

Blair’s smile widened again as he ‘felt’ the warmth of Jim’s concern, knowing that his partner had detected his momentary melancholy. Sending reassuring thoughts in return, he sat back in his chair and awaited his lover’s arrival, his happy grin of welcome almost splitting his face as Jim peered around his office door.

As he already knew Blair was alone, Jim entered the room quickly and closed the door behind him, his own grin both mischievous and lustful. Blair left his desk and crossed the room with alacrity to be taken into Jim’s arms, their kiss long and passionate before they reluctantly broke apart, knowing that they needed to regain a modicum of self-control under the circumstances. Although frequent PDAs between sentinels and guides were accepted as the norm, hot public sex was taking things a little too far.

His expression fond but regretful, Jim looked down at the flushed face of his guide, and raised his hand to stroke the delicate skin beneath one beautiful blue eye. Blair was growing his hair out again, much to Jim’s delight, and the shining curls beckoned sentinel fingers to touch and enjoy, so Jim lifted both hands to card luxuriously through the silken locks.

“You know, babe, one of these days I’m not going to be able to control myself, and I’m going to stretch you across your desk and take you whether there’s anyone around or not. You have that effect on me, Chief. You’re so beautiful. So sexy…” and he lowered his face and dropped a much more chaste kiss on Blair’s smooth, wide brow.

“You know you have the same effect on me, lover, so one day I’m going to let you!” replied Blair with a cheeky grin.

“But maybe it’s not such a good idea to get caught in the act by my students. Just imagine how hard it would be to get them to take me seriously after they’ve witnessed you ravishing their professor like that!”

“They’ll only be jealous, babe. I’m sure a lot of them, both male and female would just love to be in my shoes! But what was bothering you earlier, Chief? I felt a ‘disturbance in the Force’,” and Jim raised a questioning eyebrow as he studied his guide’s face.

“Nothing serious, lover, honestly,” Blair replied, raising his hands to rest his palms on Jim’s chest.

“I was just thinking about our Chopec friends, wondering how they’re doing. I wish we’d been able to contact them to let them know how we were getting on.”

“I’m sure they already know, babe. I’m guessing that Incacha will be well aware of our progress even if we haven’t seen him on the spirit plane since we got home. I reckon he’s still keeping an eye on us, waiting in the background in case we have need of him again.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” answered Blair with a gentle smile. “And who’d have thought you would be as comfortable as me with all the spiritual stuff? Not that I’m complaining!”

Cupping Blair’s face in his palms, Jim’s expression sobered somewhat as he responded. “Let’s just say that my eyes were opened to a great many possibilities in Peru, babe. And chief amongst them was the possibility of losing you for good. It was much easier than you’d think for me to accept the mystic when faced with that,” and he smiled softly, soaking up the love and adoration he could see in Blair’s tender expression.

“Anyhow, back to work,” he continued, all business again. “What are the latest numbers you have for attendees at your conference, Professor? Are you still getting positive responses to your invitations? I’ve already beefed up campus security and taken on more part-time guards, but at this rate we’ll be bursting at the seams! You’re a popular guy, Chief!”

And Blair giggled happily as he perched on the edge of his desk, eyeing up his partner approvingly.

“I have every confidence in you, Jim. Yes, I have had a few more acceptances, but campus security has never been in better hands. And I do so love a man in uniform….”

\------------------------

**During the preceding months:**

Blair had little recollection of his evacuation from the jungle, having spent most of the journey unconscious. He had learned later from Jim that the medic with the rescue team had put his chances of survival at about 50-50 at best, but he hadn’t reckoned on Blair’s will to live. Even so, his recovery hadn’t been quick or easy, and he had spent several weeks first in the Unit’s hospital wing at the base in Colorado, and then in a private hospital in Cascade.

Jim had been at his side every possible moment, but had also been busy on their behalf.

On their return from Peru, Jim and Blair had each become something of a celebrity, the press having learned somehow of their successful mission. Somewhat overblown and fanciful but glowing accounts were published, and their pictures were plastered over the covers of a well-known magazine to the dismay of their superiors in the Unit.  They never knew who had leaked the information, but Jim had the feeling that it could have been Blair’s ex-student, Deborah Walsh. She may well be happy in her partnership with Marcus Evers, and content to remain a military guide, but she also knew that it was the antithesis of everything her teacher stood for. It wasn’t inconceivable that she would have deliberately exposed her friend and his sentinel to public view, thus making it virtually impossible for General Marshall and Colonel Collins to deny Jim’s application to resign from the military. Major Ellison and Guide Sandburg had returned to a hero’s welcome and were too high-profile now in the public eye to be pressed into service again against their will.

Having engineered his and his guide’s honourable discharges, along with a substantial settlement and pension for his long service, Jim began to make plans for his and his lover’s future together. Discussing their options from the bedside as Blair gradually grew stronger, they both agreed that Blair should return to Rainier if possible, and Jim would look into employment opportunities in Cascade.

Once Blair was fit enough to leave hospital, they started looking for a bigger apartment, as Blair’s old rooms were barely adequate for the two of them. After a short search, they settled on a spacious loft apartment at 852 Prospect, which offered comfortable accommodation as well as a great view of Cascade Harbour and marina from the balcony.

As far as employment was concerned, Blair was welcomed back to Rainier’s Anthropology Department with open arms, much to his and Jim’s pleasure and relief. With half of their partnership settled, Jim started to explore avenues for his own employment, although the financial cushion of the military settlement meant that there was no urgency. He toyed with the idea of joining the Police Department, but decided against it. The whole idea of his leaving the military was to seek a less dangerous occupation for both his and his guide’s sake, and as Blair pointed out, as a cop in a city like Cascade he would most likely still be in the firing line far too often for comfort.

And then, shortly after his return to Rainier, Blair learned that Suzanne Tomaki, the Head of campus security, was leaving to get married, intending to relocate to Hawaii with her new husband. He had rushed home excitedly to tell Jim, hoping that it might be something his lover would be interested in, although he feared that it might not be what Jim had in mind.

However, much to his relief, Jim was actually rather taken with the idea of working more or less alongside his lover. He would still be in a position to protect and serve both his guide and his tribe in the form of the academic community and the University’s Board of Governors were only too pleased to offer the position to a respected ex-soldier, and sentinel to their own guide professor to boot.

On commencing his new appointment, Jim had immediately begun to overhaul the existing security system and put new protocols in place to deal with the increase in demand on his department from the growing number of conferences and exhibitions being held at Rainier and the subsequent large numbers of visiting dignitaries. And indeed it was his own guide who was mostly responsible for that phenomenon.

Since his return to academia, Blair was now the darling of the Anthropology Department even more than he had been before his conscription, Rainier’s governors being justly proud of his ever-growing international acclaim and prestige in the field of Sentinel and Guide Affairs. And should Doctor Sandburg be called upon to travel to other venues both at home and abroad as a guest lecturer and leading expert in his field, he had his own personal sentinel security guard and lover to back him up at all times.

Life was undoubtedly good.

**The End**


End file.
